Random Harvest
by garsonfan
Summary: Ruth is back and this is what happens after she returned. Fluff/Angst for all ROGs and HOGs.
1. Chapter 1

Random Harvest

**I found a way for Ruth to return from the dead and this is what I think happened when she came back.**

**I don't own Spooks or any of the characters in the TV series; Kudos Productions own the relevant copyright. This fic is inspired by the 1942 movie, Random Harvest. Again, I don't have any rights vis-à-vis that movie. I hope that the copyright holders will not be too aggrieved by my use of their characters in this fic.**

**Thanks to Rachel for having beta'd the first three chapters. Also thanks to Liz for providing many useful comments.**

Chapter 1

The Return of the Native

It was early evening and in one of the bigger apartments in the Watergate complex in Washington DC, Jools Siviter sat in his favourite armchair, nursing a glass of scotch. The telephone rang. It was a call on a secured line from the Home Secretary in London.

"Jools, how the devil are you? Not getting too spoiled by the cousins, I hope."

"Doing one's best to keep the flag flying, Home Secretary. To what do I owe the honour of this call?" Jools did a quick calculation of the time difference between Washington and London, and concluded that this was not the usual time for Home Secretaries to be making social calls.

"Well, there has been some discussion here, and the general feeling is that perhaps it was time you came home. In fact, assuming that you don't have anything ongoing which is urgent, you should come home before the end of the month. We'd like to discuss a new direction for you to take, within the Service."

When the Home Secretary called you to talk about having you transferred home, it was not a suggestion, it was an order. Jools had now been in the US for five years and it had been nice, especially as there were endless embassy parties and cocktail parties to attend. He _did_ have to file regular reports to head office, but given Jools's experience, those reports were a piece of cake; he could and usually did finish them with his eyes closed.

Even though he had been away all this time, Jools had kept his ears firmly to the ground and knew everything that had been going on within the Secret Service at home. What a mess it had been!

First there was that Michael Collingwood business - silly boy. When Jools handed over the reins of MI6 to Collingwood, the department was in very good shape. All he needed to do was to keep to the procedures which Jools had set up over the years and everything would have been fine. What was that wonderful American expression? Don't fix what ain't broke. But no, Collingwood had to be clever and become involved in that sordid little plot to overthrow the government. Now he was dead and MI6 was floundering.

Then there was Juliet Shaw. _Now there's a handsome woman,_ Jools thought. Although she would be much better looking if dressed in leather and cracking a whip, rather than in a power suit trying to act like one of the boys. She probably slept her way to the top though Jools wasn't one of her conquests. Was it because she never asked, or was it because she wasn't his cup of tea? Jools couldn't remember. She was mixed up with that Yalta group. _What was that all about?_ As usual with these clever and ambitious bitches, they bit off more than they could chew and ended up with their arses on the floor.

Finally, there was that slime ball Oliver Mace. How he got to where he ended up in Government, Jools would never know. As far as Jools was concerned, Mace was a fellow who had a much higher opinion of himself than others would give him credit for. Jools had been hearing about Mace's various dealings with Middle Eastern contacts on the Service grapevine and he wondered how long it would take before he got burned by those people. The whole Cotterdam incident was a case in point. _Did he and his cronies really think that they could pull off a stunt of that magnitude and get away with it?_

Such important business as national security could not be entrusted to these people; inevitably, it would only go to their heads. It was only a matter of time before they would get a god complex and became involved in all kinds of dangerous but stupid stunts.

Jools liked to wheel and deal as much as the next man, but at the end of the day, he stilled believed in the democratic system of Government. Given a set of parameters within which to operate, he would quite happily run his own little shows, conducting dealings behind the scenes. That was why he was content with being a spy who worked in the shadows. He never had any delusions of grandeur or ambitions to take a more active role in government.

When Jools was first offered the transfer to Washington as Juliet Shaw's replacement, he saw it as a demotion rather than the lateral move sold to him by the Home Office. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, it was probably for the best that he was not around head office when all these other shenanigans were going down. _God, I must be spending too much time with the Americans if I am now using terms such as "shenanigans" in my own thoughts._

Jools figured the real reason why he had to head home now was because they wanted someone to clean up after these people. Someone who they could trust but who had been away from head office during the troublesome days and therefore could now be considered safe and reasonably objective. Morale was generally low in all branches of the Service and god only knows how many agents had been sacrificed in the meantime. Jools supposed that there could be worse jobs than the one he had to do when he got back. Maybe it _was_ time to go home. He had just about taken as much as he could stomach with these Americans, so upfront and gregarious about everything. No subtlety or finesse at all! Anyway, it was time to reacquaint himself with the delights of warm beer served during intermission at Covent Garden. So home it was, then.

One of the first things Jools Siviter did when he returned to Britain was to review files which involved Collingwood, Yalta, Shaw and/or Mace. If there had been a wrong, he must try and make it right. If certain agents in the field had been discredited, unjustly, then he must seek them out and rehabilitate them. Jools was not really a details man and he hated having to wade through all that paperwork. He was on the verge of giving up and delegating it to a trusted junior when he came across a file marked "Ruth Evershed".

_Yes, I heard about Ms. Evershed,_ Jools thought. _Wasn't she Harry Pearce's star analyst who somehow got implicated in one of Oliver Mace's little plots?_ Pearce attacked Mace at his club in a bid to protect his little protégé, but then the woman turned up dead and the case was closed. Her death precipitated a series of events which ultimately brought down Mace and a variety of other politicians. Wait a minute. If there was one thing Jools was good at, it was to sniff out a rat. With this file, the scent was particularly strong. He read on.

A lot of things did not add up in Ms. Evershed's file. She was mostly desk bound and was rarely sent out in the field. In fact, by all accounts, her field work was kind of poor. So how did she get involved with Mace? Why or how did she end up dead? _Wasn't that just a little convenient how things turned out for her?_ How could they claim that Mace and Evershed were co-conspirators when early on in the investigation, it was Mace who wanted to arrest Evershed? Maybe Mace was trying to silence Evershed. There was a cross reference in the Evershed file to the Cotterdam file, so Jools spent a couple of hours reading up on that file to refresh his memory.

By the end of the afternoon, Jools was pretty sure that he understood what had happened. _You sly old dog, Harry Pearce. You went and fell for one of your junior officers, didn't you?_ Looking at the file photo of Ruth, Jools couldn't quite see the attraction. Then again, it was one of those black and white photos taken in those automatic booths which took ID photos. They never do justice to any one. That Greek woman whose face was supposed to have launched a thousand ships? Jools could have sworn that he read somewhere that she was no great beauty in real life, that it had everything to do with the eye of the beholder etc. _Now why couldn't Harry have gone for one of those young, nubile blondes? What did Pearce see in that woman anyway? She did not seem to be Harry's usual type._ Then again, Jools was not sure what Harry's usual type was as far as women go. His last known fling was with Juliet Shaw and that happened in the last century. Since his divorce, gossip about Harry's sexual conquests were about as rare as sightings of Big Foot.

Jools thought, _if you are going to let your pecker rule your life and chuck caution to the wind, you might as well go for a spectacular looking woman rather this one._ Then again, the Service inevitably attracted a large number of mousy, geeky types for the desk bound analysts, so if one was restricted to women in the Service, the pickings were rather slim. If only Harry had asked him, he could have given him the numbers of a couple of ladies who worked in Mayfair. In Jools's mind, there was nothing wrong with paying for sex. A straightforward cash transaction, no strings attached, scratched the biological urge brilliantly if the right girl or girls were involved, and then he could get on with more important matters like his day job. _At the rate the Family Courts were going, a wife might end up costing you more money than if you had paid for sex over the years._

_No, Mace probably found out about Harry's little obsession and used that woman as bait to coerce him into joining one of his little schemes._ A perverse kind of honey trap, if you will. Knowing Harry Pearce, he refused and in the ensuing tug of war, Ruth Evershed got pushed over the edge and ended up on the funeral pyre. Only question was, was Ms. Evershed really dead? The Service was terribly good at making people disappear, only to have them resurface somewhere else as different people. Jools would not put it past Harry's team to have arranged for Ruth Evershed to go into hiding somewhere with a new identity. It all seemed so convenient, Ruth's body being found the day Harry got out of jail. It was Harry who identified her body at the morgue. All of that was involved too many coincidences and Jools Siviter was not a man who believed in coincidences.

_Did Harry Pearce still feel the same way about this woman,_ Jools wondered to himself. Now that he was back, he needed to rebuild confidence within the Security Service and Harry Pearce would be a good ally in this exercise. Any tactician would tell you that you should never fight a battle on more than one front. Jools needed to be sure that he got at least one section of the Secret Service locked down before tackling the other sections. MI5 was as good a place to start as any. If Harry could be on board, he would form a good rallying point for MI5, and hopefully for other sections of the Service.

Jools was never particularly fond of Harry, but that was not to say that he disliked the man. Pearce's arrogance matched his own. Maybe that was why they never got on. Still, Jools wondered if it was worth the trouble of resurrecting Ruth Evershed. Use her as a peace offering to Harry Pearce, all tied up with a pretty red bow. If you wanted to make friends with your neighbours, you go to their house for dinner and bring a bottle of wine. If you wanted to get Pearce's attention, why not use the same bait as before? It might still work. Jools had the best intentions in the world at this point in time, and it did not bother him that he would be regarded as a "Greek bearing gift".

There was just one problem. Ruth Evershed was used as the match that lit the bomb which blew Mace and a number of other high ranking officials out of Government. As far as Jools was aware, Oliver Mace was still lurking about, wheeling and dealing, calling in favours and using many of his old contacts. If he found out that Ruth Evershed was being resurrected, how would he, or any of the other politicians who lost office over that Cotterdam matter, feel about it and if they did not like it, would they do anything about it? If they wanted to do something, how far would they go?

The case against the Government over Cotterdam was incontrovertible. There was evidence of secret arrangements to fake the deaths of prisoners so that they could be smuggled abroad and tortured for information on terrorist activities. Once that aspect took up residence in the headlines, people tended to forget the involvement of a little analyst in the whole affair. If Mace or any of the other "victims" wanted to make any sort of comeback, the last thing they wanted would be to draw attention to the fact that they were once associated with Cotterdam. If any one wanted revenge, either against Harry Pearce, Ruth Evershed or both, over their involvement in this whole debacle, they would do so whether or not Jools assisted in the resurrection of Ruth Evershed. So far, Jools had not heard of any retaliatory action.

Simply because this Evershed woman was going to become 'alive' again, this was not going to enable Mace and his cohorts to return to Government, that was for sure. Quite the contrary. Bringing her back should send the strongest possible signal to Mace and his friends that there was a new sheriff in town and he was not to be messed about.

Jools was a betting man and after considering the matter at length, he was willing to bet that absolutely nothing would happen if he were to arrange for Ruth Evershed to be resurrected.

Now how should he go about doing this? The paperwork should not be a problem. Jools had already compiled a list of 10, 12 agents scattered around the world who needed to "come back from the dead", so to speak. One more should not make much of a difference. Besides, he was on a roll with the Home Office, so it was unlikely that they would ask too many questions. The Home Office probably did not want to know too many details about these agents; if something went wrong, they could always put the blame on him.

As for the actual logistics, Jools decided that in order to achieve maximum effectiveness, the whole thing would have to be a surprise as far as Harry Pearce was concerned. If he revealed his plans to Harry from the outset, he might veto his plans and stay as far away from Jools as possible. Pearce could be a very suspicious fellow when he wanted to be. No, this had to be an undercover operation. He needed the help of someone on Harry's team, who knew all about Ruth Evershed and how Harry Pearce still felt about her. After all, if Harry had moved on, then this whole exercise would be futile. Jools needed information. Who should he talk to?

Going through the internal directory for Section D, the first name (in terms of seniority) he came across was Adam Carter. Yes he knew Carter from his MI6 days but then he defected to MI5. Carter's dislike of Jools might still be too strong for there to be any deep and meaningful discussion between them. Anyway, Carter seemed to have acquired a bit of a reputation for being a hot head since his wife died. No, he could not use Adam as a first point of contact.

The next on the list was Connie James. Ah yes, dear old Connie. Maybe Harry has learnt his lesson and decided to go for older women, as far as analysts go. How did he manage to cajole Connie out of retirement to become his senior analyst? That must be a good sign, it showed that maybe Harry still had feelings for his supposedly "dead" girlfriend. No. Connie would not do. For one thing, Jools did not know her that well. She was not even back in the Service at the time of Ruth's disappearance. She would be too suspicious of Jools's hidden agenda to take his suggestion seriously.

He looked at a few other names. Ros Myers. No, another MI6 defect. Joanna Portman, Ben Kaplan. No, too junior.

It had to be Malcolm Wynn-Jones, then. Dear old stodgy Malcolm. Now if only he could sell the idea to Malcolm, then he could rely on Malcolm to bring the others on board. With this happy thought, Jools Siviter called Malcolm and suggested a meeting as soon as possible.

Malcolm was puzzled when he received word that Jools Siviter wanted a chat. Siviter usually fraternized with more senior ranking officers within the Service, not the likes of Malcolm. Malcolm knew that he was back and there were rumours as to what he was supposed to be doing. But what was there to chat about between the two of them? Jools Siviter must want something from him. He also mentioned that Malcolm should not discuss their little tête-à-tête with either Harry or any one else on his team.

The request to have an audience with Jools Siviter was intriguing. Purely out of curiosity, Malcolm decided that it would not hurt to find out. So he arranged to meet Jools Siviter for drinks. As long as he remained aloof and non-committal, Malcolm decided that he could always come back and discuss things with Adam, and if necessary, Harry.

Malcolm nearly spilt his drink when Jools came right to the point after exchanging brief pleasantries. _Bring back Ruth?! What was this man playing at?_ _And not tell Harry for the time being? The whole idea was preposterous. What did Jools Siviter really want?_ That was the more important question.

Jools knew that Malcolm would not be so foolish as to agree with his plans right away. He encouraged Malcolm to take the proposal back to his colleagues (other than Harry, of course) and let him know. They needed to move fast though. Jools was about to submit the first batch of agent rehabilitation applications to the Home Secretary and he would very much like to include Ruth Evershed's file. So he told Malcolm that he should get back to him in a day or so.

When he returned to the Grid, Malcolm arranged to meet Adam, Connie and Ros off the Grid, that is, away from Harry's eyes and ears, where he reported details of his recent discussion with Jools Siviter. Given the sensitivity of the subject matter, more junior members of the team were not consulted. After initial accusations of duplicitous behaviour on Malcolm's part, the team quickly settled down to consider the merits of the proposal which had been tabled by Malcolm.

Adam did not trust Jools, not even if he had his back to the wall and Jools was the only one who could wave a wand and make the firing squad disappear. But Adam felt tired. He had just lost his best friend, Zaf, in the field and Jo looked as if any day now, she might lose it too. Ros was the only one who could be of any use to him in the field. Still, he knew that after Ruth left, it had hit Harry hard. Having Connie on the Grid has been helpful but they could sure do with an extra brain. Adam was never very happy with Ruth's plan to save Harry over the Cotterdam affair, but everything had happened so fast. So even though it would leave his department vulnerable and indebted to Jools Siviter, the thought of resurrecting Ruth became more and more appealing as Adam gave it some thought. With a degree of reluctance, he voted to go along with the idea. He assumed that Jools had worked out all the political implications regarding this little project.

It was not difficult to convince Connie. She and Harry went a long way back. Since coming onto the Grid, she had noticed that Harry appeared to have lost some spark in his personality. Whilst you might not usually describe Harry as the life of the party, Connie could see that a part of Harry's personality seemed to have withered or gone into hibernation. She had always assumed that it was the result of weariness on Harry's part, having seen too much of man's inhumanity to man, but she now knew that it was the result of affairs of the heart.

As for Ros, well, remorse might be too strong a word, but she has felt bad about going over Harry's head and reporting Ruth to the authorities over the Mik Maudsley incident. Her action had accelerated what happened subsequently and left Harry no time to seek an alternative course of action in order to save Ruth. Ros was not about to apologise to any one; she still felt that it was the right thing to do at the time. But if Jools Siviter now thought that he could resurrect Ruth, who was she to stand in the way of his plans?

The team had more of a problem in deciding whether to keep Harry in the dark about these arrangements, as stipulated by Jools. No one doubted that the famous Pearce temper would explode if he got wind of this scheme. However, recalling the way Harry had been moping round the Grid ever since Ruth left helped the team quickly decide that Harry _deserved_ to have Ruth back in his life. It never occurred to any of them that perhaps Harry _himself_ might not want Ruth back in his life.

Naturally, Malcolm was asked to be in charge of locating Ruth and making arrangements for her return. It took him the better part of a week to finally trace her to a small university in Italy where she was teaching a course in classics. An email, suitably encrypted in a way that only Ruth and Malcolm could decipher, was sent to her university email address. If the email address turned out to be incorrect, then the recipient would not understand the garbled message. If it was correct, Malcolm prayed that Ruth had not lost her skills to crack the code in order to decipher the real message. After he hit the "send mail" button, Malcolm sat back and hoped that he had done the right thing.

**All reviews will be gratefully received.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Same disclaimer as before**

Chapter 2

Resurrection of the Living Dead

Ruth checked her emails first thing in the morning, the way she had done almost every day of her working life. There was a message from an unfamiliar sender, a "ManGetDag". _Must be one of those spams which offered you a variety of ways to enhance a body part or two. I thought that the University email filtering system was quite good at keeping this sort of email out of my mailbox_. She was going to send it to the Trashcan when she had second thoughts.

The sender's name was an anagram, and it did not take her long to conclude that it was an email from the GadgetMan, i.e. Malcolm Wynn-Jones. She ran the email through antivirus software and clicked it open. All she saw was a lot of garbled text, at least, to the untrained eye, it looked like garbled text, but not to Ruth. She smiled, _its been a while since I have received one of these_. She reached for her dog-eared copy of Shakespeare's Sonnets, found the one she wanted, and started to transcribe the email.

"Are you ready to come home? We have a way, but you must act quickly before the passageway is closed again. Send me your contact address and a package with instructions will be sent to you."

Ruth's heart leapt. After all this time. Home. As herself. She composed a response in the same coded language as Malcolm's email and waited.

Of course, Ruth was excited about having her old life back. Life in exile had not been fun. It was very tiring, having to remember every detail about her legend so as not to have any slip ups. Then there was the constant looking over one's shoulders, just to be sure that she had not broken cover, or that enemies, real or imagined, were not on her tail. It was difficult to make friends. She always felt that living this new life, she was lying to potential new friends when they talked about what she did and where she came from. She liked her new job, teaching classics at the local university, but somehow that was not as intellectually stimulating as working on the Grid, analyzing intelligence which had a bearing on national security.

Ruth noticed that the message did not come from Harry. _Was Malcolm acting on Harry's instructions?_ How did Harry feel about her resurrection and return to the Grid? Did he still have feelings for her? If he no longer had those feelings, would she be able to cope with having to work alongside him again on a daily basis, simply as a friend? If the arrangements were not originated by Harry, would he be angry that she had decided to come back and would he tell her what a reckless thing that was to do? Should her desire to claim back her old life be dictated in any way by how Harry still felt about her? These thoughts went round and round in her head until she felt like it was about to explode.

The parcel arrived two days later. When she opened it, Ruth found herself holding a brand new passport in her old name. She was speechless for a moment. It was so strange seeing her own name on a British passport, after all this time.

Malcolm's instructions were that she should simply show up at the nearest airport without delay, approach the British Airways counter and give her old name. An electronic plane ticket would be waiting for her, for the next available flight to London, a flight that would bring her back from oblivion. When she got to London, she should contact the Special Branch officer on duty at the immigration hall and give him her real name, Ruth Evershed. He would then help her clear immigration formalities. No further email communication with Malcolm was necessary.

Ruth made excuses with the University, muttering something about a death in the family, and handed in her notice immediately. It was just as well that the current term had just finished. She left her new life as abruptly as she had exited her old life.

During the long plane ride to London, Ruth had plenty of time to think, and her thoughts centred mainly on Harry.

Nothing ever happened between them. Yet, that day by the dockside when they said goodbye, he clearly wanted to declare his feelings for her, but she did not let him go any further. At the time, she did not think that it was a helpful thing to do. She was leaving. She _had_ to leave. It was better to leave without knowing how Harry felt. It made it easier for her to get on that barge. She was not sure she would have gotten on the barge if she heard what Harry had to say.

Ruth had only ever been interested in men with intelligence, and at GCHQ, there was no shortage of that type of men. The problem was that inevitably, men with good brains liked to play mind games with you. One minute they would be professing undying love and devotion, the next minute you never heard from them again; some would not even return your calls, or physically cowered if they happened to run into you. Ruth always thought that perhaps it was because she was no good in bed, or she did something or did not do certain things which put off these men. It took a long time for her to realize that the problem did not lie with _her_, it was the men in question who had problems.

Was it fear of commitment, the ability to control your emotions, or something else altogether which motivated their mind games? Ruth had long since ceased to ponder these questions. By the time she arrived on the Grid, she had vowed to give up on romance in general and men in particular. That was why she made that comment about there being too many mathematicians in Cheltenham.

So, falling in love with Harry Pearce was not part of the plan. She wanted desperately to get out of GCHQ and had her heart set on a transfer to MI5. She had heard that Harry Pearce was a difficult man to work for, heard all about his fearsome temper. Ruth figured that she could cope with that. It was possible that Harry Pearce was one of those leaders who did not suffer fools gladly and therefore would only ever lose his temper with subordinates who somehow forgot to bring their brains to work, or who were simply not trying to do the best job they could.

Ruth knew that she was good at her job and as long as she kept her eye on the ball, there was no reason to fear Harry's temper tantrums. And even if Harry were to throw something at her, he would probably only do so because he was under tremendous pressure. Ruth liked to think that she had thick enough skin to weather these storms. She felt that she would find any temper tantrums tolerable as long as it was not something personal directed at her.

But slowly and against her better judgment, she fell for Harry. Initially it was just admiration. Harry had a tough job and often had to make hard decisions which sometimes resulted in the loss of life. She could see that Harry did not enjoy making these decisions. Admiration morphed into friendship and mutual respect, specially when he started to confide in her on occasion in preference to other members of the team. Over time, she noticed Harry's loneliness and vulnerability. That was when her feelings for her boss turned into love. She could not point to a date or specific event, but fall in love she did.

Ruth also felt that over time, Harry had developed feelings towards her. In the beginning, she thought that his affections were more of an avuncular nature. There was, after all, the age difference between them, and the fact that he was her superior. But then Harry complicated things by taking her to dinner. She had heard rumors that it was Juliet Shaw who put him up to this idea. Ruth found it hard to believe that Juliet Shaw had Harry's best interest in mind when she pointed out to him that Ruth was secretly in love with him. How did Juliet find out anyway? Ruth thought that she had covered her feelings quite well. Given what happened subsequently with Oliver Mace, she now wondered whether this was some diabolical scheme on the part of Juliet to put Harry in a vulnerable position so that he could be held to ransom at a later date? If that was true, then boy did she and Harry walk right into this trap.

Part of Ruth was worried that Harry's interest in her was just the usual office romance with a short shelf life. The typical office romance would usually go down like this : for whatever reason, the boss pursued a member of staff, motivated purely by the thrill of the chase. The woman in question did not have to be attractive. In fact, often it would be the rather mousy looking secretary that everybody thought did not have a life outside the office. They would have a few shags, the novelty would soon wear off, and then the man would start retreating to the point where he could carry on as if nothing ever happened between them, leaving the woman heartbroken and feeling as if she had been used. The more aggressive victims might sue for sexual harassment. The less aggressive victims would resign and leave altogether. Ruth would not have been able to live with herself if this was how her relationship turned out. This was one reason why she did not want to take things further with Harry.

Ruth remembered that night at the Havensworth conference, their encounter in the hotel corridor, that look of pure desire in Harry's eyes. Over the years, she vacillated between eternal regret in not taking up Harry's implied offer of companionship that evening, and relief that she was strong enough not to have crossed the line between friends and lovers.

But it was not a run-of-the-mill office romance, no matter how hard Ruth tried to convince herself. During the four years that she spent working with Harry and the team on the Grid, not once did she hear of any romantic dalliance between Harry and whoever was the flavour of the month. They worked so closely together on the Grid that no one's private life was off limits. If one of them had any sort of romantic liaison, inevitably the others would hear about it. If these affairs threatened to become something more serious, the agents in question would have filed the necessary paperwork and arranged for their partners to be vetted by the Service. Everyone would know about these procedures. Nothing like that happened to Harry. There was no shortage of intelligent and beautiful women who paraded past Harry Pearce, but he appeared to have been married to the job. If he _was_ interested in anyone, Ruth would have known.

There was that whole Cotterdam mess. Ruth wondered whether Oliver Mace was still around. Harry not only attacked Oliver Mace, he was prepared to get arrested in order to protect her. That was not the behaviour of a man who was just looking for a good time. Ruth had no choice but to fake her own death in order to save her boss. Memories of her saying goodbye to Harry at the dockside came flooding back. Whenever she got to this point in her thoughts, she would regret not having let Harry speak his mind that cold October morning. Was it better knowing or not knowing? Would she be given a second chance now to find out?

When they announced that the plane had started its descent into London Heathrow airport, Ruth started to hyperventilate. _Breathe, come on, deep breaths._ The woman passenger who sat next to her noticed that she had grabbed onto the armrests. She gave Ruth a reassuring smile, thinking that she must have a fear of flying or something. If only this woman knew what was going through Ruth's mind!

Malcolm met her outside at the arrivals area. They were overjoyed to see each other again.

"Its good to see you Ruth, welcome home."

"Its good to be back, Malcolm, I hope you have been keeping well."

"I'm fine, nothing's changed, still the same old same old."

"How did you know that I was on this flight?"

"As soon as your flight took off, British Airways emailed me with your arrival details. You didn't think that for such a momentous occasion, we would leave you stranded at the airport?"

Ruth smiled, "I guess not."

"Listen Ruth, after you left, we terminated the lease on your house and on Harry's insistence, we put your things into storage. Harry said that he would deal with your personal effects at a later date, but I don't think he ever did anything about them. He does have your cat though."

Surely that was a good sign, that Harry adopted her cat like she asked, and claimed temporary possession of her belongings. What did he think he was going to do with her stuff? Ruth did not have a lot of material possessions. She assumed that they would have sold the larger pieces of furniture and simply retained the personal effects. It would be good to have her books back.

Malcolm went on. "We can sort out long term accommodations for you in due course. For the time being, I have arranged for you to stay with one of our colleagues, Connie James. Don't worry, its not a problem. Connie knows all about you. She's an old friend of Harry's. We were relieved when Harry managed to persuade her to join our Section, as Senior Analyst. After you left, Harry seemed to have developed a taste for analysts …"

Ruth's heart skipped a beat. What could Malcolm mean? Did Harry start sleeping with her replacements?

In response to the look that was now on Ruth's face, Malcolm continued, "After you left, we had a devil of a problem in recruiting and retaining someone to take your place. Harry invariably ate these poor analysts for breakfast, so nobody lasted very long. We were getting a reputation amongst potential recruits, a bad reputation, I might add."

"I see, still bad tempered as usual. Well, if its not too much of an imposition on Connie ... I think I remember Harry mentioning this woman in the past. Incidentally, does he know that I am coming back?"

"Eh … no … not yet. You see, he has been tied up in one of those inter-departmental conferences in Havensworth for the last week. We have been instructed not to contact our section chiefs unless we have a crisis on our hands. Your resurrection cannot be classified as a crisis, can it? It should be a joyous occasion. In any case, when Jools Siviter authorized me to resurrect you, he made it a condition that we should not tell Harry until you were actually back."

Ruth pondered this. For starters, she was unsure how she felt now that she knew it was not Harry's idea or efforts which resulted in her resurrection. She had always hoped that perhaps one day he would seek her out again. Now she was being told that this was all Jools Siviter's idea. Although she had not dealt with this man in the past, his reputation preceded him and she knew that Jools was not the kind of man who did favours for others unless there was something in it for him. She felt sick when she realized that her return would mean that Harry and Section D might be indebted to Jools Siviter. Maybe it was not such a good idea to come back after all.

"Adam and I decided that we should grab this opportunity and move as quickly as possible, you know, before the powers that be change their mind. Don't worry, I'm sure Harry will be delighted when I tell him. He is due back tomorrow. You just settle in for the night at Connie's. I will arrange for you to be back on the Grid tomorrow to go over the necessary paperwork. Your appearance will be our little surprise for Harry."

Ruth wondered why Jools Siviter would insist on keeping her return a surprise which should not be sprung on Harry until the very last minute. What kind of agenda did that man have up his sleeve? Ruth did not like the sound of that at all, and she was slowly developing a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She was not sure whether Harry liked surprises, especially a surprise of this magnitude. What if he were to scream at Ruth and remove her from the Grid the minute she made an appearance? What if he were to berate her for being stupid in accepting the offer to come back? What if, what if, what if … Ruth wondered, not for the first time, why did life have to be so complicated and filled with so many uncertainties?

When Connie shook hands with Ruth, she immediately understood why Harry had not been able to find a ring that fit. This one was different from all the others. Sure Ruth was intelligent, Harry would not have taken notice if she did not have a first class brain to start with, but Ruth was not flashy like other women who had been associated with Harry, such as Juliet Shaw. In fact, on the surface, Ruth looked like the sort of person who was habitually dismissed offhand by men who assumed that she was some lowly clerk or assistant. Until that brainpower kicked in, that is. Then they would know that they were dealing with someone who was extremely intelligent.

It was Ruth's personality that made her different. She looked you straight in the eye when she was talking to you, taking a genuine interest in what you had to say. Ruth has an interesting face, with a pair of very beautiful eyes. It was the sort of face that grew on you once you got to know her better. Over time, you would conclude that she was beautiful, in a very special way. Yes, this one was a keeper.

_Well Harry, now I know why you have been walking around like a bear with a sore head since this woman left you._

Ruth was glad to have finally met Connie. Given her age and experience, Connie would obviously exert a calming influence over the younger members on the Grid. She was glad that Harry was able to have someone of Connie's calibre to help with the analytical work. She wondered how her own skills would match up against those of Connie's? Ruth felt a little rusty and ever so slightly intimidated by the older woman.

"Get some sleep, you have a big day ahead of you." Those were Malcolm's parting word to Ruth.

Sleep? How could Ruth sleep? With all the excitement about finally being able to come home, and the prospect of seeing Harry again, how could anyone in Ruth's position get any sleep?

**All reviews will be gratefully received.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Same disclaimer as before**

**A couple of bad words, for those who are bothered by this sort of thing.**

Chapter 3 Happy days are here again?

The next morning, Ruth was accompanied to the Grid by Connie. She spent the morning catching up with some of her old colleagues, at least those who were still around.

She was upset that Zaf was no longer there. She remembered Zaf's comment to her, that day on the dock, how he would always smile at a beautiful girl, including Ruth. It pained her that she would not be able to see Zaf's cheeky smile ever again. The female of the species has suffered a great loss. First Danny, then Colin, now Zaf. The Service has this incredible ability to cut down these brilliant young men in their prime. It was not only restricted to men … there was the tragic case of Fiona. What about Tom and Zoe? A never ending list of victims. Such a waste. Ruth herself was also a victim, until recently. Was it not possible for people who worked for the Service to have a happy ending?

Jo was overjoyed to see Ruth again; she had no idea that someone had arranged for Ruth to return. Ruth was extremely concerned to see that Jo seemed to have aged a lot since she last saw her. Of course people aged over time, but not like this. _What hell did you go through in the field to have changed you this much?_ Ruth thought to herself. When Jo first came on the Grid, she was so young and full of life. Why did this job have this nasty habit of chewing you up and spitting you out, just like that, time and time again? Ruth made a mental note to find time to talk to Jo after she was settled back on the Grid, see if there was anything she could do to help her.

Then there was Adam. Sweet, wonderful Adam. They hugged for the longest time. She wanted to find out everything that has happened to Adam, and Wes. Did Wes like boarding school? Who was Adam's new love interest? Ruth remembered the first nanny she recruited for Wes after Fiona died. Adam had delegated this task to Ruth and she thought she identified the perfect candidate. Even though the candidate was on the young side, she looked like she had a good head on her shoulders. How was she supposed to know that Adam would start that stupid fling with the nanny and leave her heartbroken? Maybe it was not really Ruth's fault. They say that the loss of a spouse was about the most traumatic experience one could go through in life. In those circumstances, perhaps Adam's little dalliance with the nanny was understandable.

As for Ros, well, she remained one cool ice queen. They were civil and courteous to each other, but since they had never been bosom buddies to start with, there was no reason to start now. Ruth had long since forgiven Ros for her part in the whole Mik Maudsley affair but it would be some time before Ruth could count Ros as a friend.

There were a number of new members on the team. Malcolm said that he would introduce them to Ruth at a later time. After a couple hours of catching up, Ruth finally sat down to go through paperwork with Malcolm. He gave her the bad news first. It seemed that Human Resources was not used to this resurrection business and they were still passing Ruth's file within the department before deciding what to do. He remembered clearly the frustrating conversation he had with HR the day before.

"Sir, I cannot remember the last time we had to deal with reopening a "dead" employee's files. I'm not sure which forms to fill in or what vetting procedures we should go through. I will have to ask one of the old timers, but I'm not sure which one I should approach? This could take some time." The junior officer at HR sounded rather distraught when she was dealing with Malcolm on this matter.

"Section D wants Ruth Evershed reinstated as an analyst as quickly as possible." Malcolm tried to use the most authoritative voice in his repertoire but to no avail.

"I can only issue a pass which clears Ms. Evershed for low grade work, and the pass would only have a six month validity period. I will do my best to expedite this case." The HR clerk looked earnestly at Malcolm and hoped that he would accept this as a temporary peace offering.

Malcolm decided to leave things at that for the time being. He had pushed this far enough. He supposed that he could go and ask Adam to intervene, but since he, Malcolm, was given the task of bringing Ruth back to life, he was reluctant to trouble Adam with bureaucratic red tape. Perhaps when Harry got back from his meeting at Havensworth, he could light a firecracker under these bureaucrats' bottoms and really get things moving. Harry was good at that sort of thing.

"Ruth, I have just received information that Harry's car has just entered the outskirts of London. He should be coming through the pods within the hour."

"Good. Thanks for letting me know, Malcolm."

_Was there a pill for settling butterflies in one's stomach?_ Ruth told herself she should have made enquiries at the chemist counter at the airport. They have pills for everything these days. There has to be a pill to calm nerves. Maybe they were only available as prescription drugs. Perhaps a mug of hot sweet tea would help. Ruth was glad to see that the pantry area was still where it was. Her own mug was no longer there of course. She made do with one of the guest mugs.

After an hour passed, there was still no sign of Harry. Everyone on the Grid was busy with something or other, so Ruth just sat in the forgery suite by herself. She did not want to get in anyone's way.

Suddenly, she heard the familiar beeps of someone's pager, quickly followed by more beeps. The team had been red-flashed … something had gone wrong somewhere. Since Ruth was not officially a member of the team yet, she had to be content just watching everyone jump to attention and making all sorts of arrangements on the phone or via the computer. After about 15 minutes of frantic activity on everyone's part, Malcolm walked into the forgery suite with a solemn look.

"I'm afraid its bad news, Ruth. Seems that someone tried to assassinate Harry as he was getting out of his car outside Thames House. He has been shot in the head and in the chest. They are transferring him to hospital for emergency surgery as we speak."

"Oh my god! Malcolm, can you take me …"

"Yes of course, Ruth, I can organize a car to take you to the hospital. Come with me. I'm afraid I will not be able to accompany you, there's a lot of work to do here. We need to find out urgently who was behind the assassination attempt and the point which these people want to make. One of us will come to the hospital later when things have settled down a little on the Grid."

"Yes, of course I understand Malcolm. I would stay and help analyze whatever intelligence there is. But since I don't have clearance yet, I think it may be more helpful if I were at the hospital, to find out how Harry's doing."

Whilst waiting for her ride outside the entrance to the car park, Ruth saw the pool of blood on the pavement. There were a large number of crime scene experts already there, collecting evidence such as bullet casings. The cleaners would not be able to tidy up the mess until they received clearance from these experts. She felt weak in the knees and had to hang on to one of the walls for support; otherwise she was in danger of collapsing on the floor. That was Harry's blood, and there was so much of it. How could any one survive after losing such much blood? Ruth had never been a particularly religious person, but right now, she was praying to whichever god was out there listening : _please let him live_.

It then occurred to Ruth, Harry did not usually get out of his car on street level. Why did he do this today? He would only have done this if he was in a hurry to enter the building. It was faster to get out of the car at ground level, walk round the corner and enter through one of the discreet side entrances. Usually, Harry waited for the driver to navigate the car to one of the underground levels before taking one of the internal banks of elevators. Why was Harry in such a hurry?

Malcolm was aware of Harry's movements. _Didn't he say that he was supposed to arrive within the hour?_ Did Malcolm actually speak to Harry and if so, did he mention to Harry that someone was waiting to see him on the Grid? Did Malcolm reveal the identity of that visitor? Malcolm had said that he wanted this to be a surprise. The truth of the matter was, if only Harry had stuck to his usual routine of getting out of the car only after it has reached one of the underground levels, then this would not have happened.

It had to be the ultimate irony for something awful to happen to Harry Pearce on the day he was supposed to be reunited with Ruth Evershed. What had she done to deserve this? Did she do something horribly wrong in a past life and was now being punished for it in this life through this convoluted relationship with Harry? If this was not about her, then what had _he_ done to deserve this? Was this a sign that perhaps the two of them were not meant to be together?

Ruth wanted to cry, but she stopped herself. _Pull yourself together, woman. Now is not the time to have any sort of breakdown. Harry needs you. You can save the dramatics for later._

When news of Harry's attempted assassination reached Jools Siviter, he was stunned. _Damn, it just buggered up my plans to acquire a new best friend_, he thought. _Would Mace and his friends go so far as to order a hit on Harry Pearce? How could I have miscalculated things by so much?_ The minute Ruth Evershed was back, all hell broke loose. What a mess! If Harry did not survive this hit, then it would have been all because Jools made the decision to bring Ruth back from the dead. He was not sure he was comfortable with the thought that he might have somehow contributed to the demise of Harry Pearce. If Harry lived, he would be hopping mad over Jools' machinations.

Although Harry Pearce had his share of enemies, in and out of Government, Jools had no doubt that the hit was ordered by someone connected with the Cotterdam incident. That would be the only explanation for the hit taking place on the very day that Ruth Evershed showed up on the Grid. Jools just never figured that these people would hold a grudge for so long or go so far as to order the taking of a life.

In the conference room at the Grid, Jools met with Adam, Connie and Malcolm.

"Who would do this? What self respecting terrorists would assassinate a civil servant? Don't they know that for every one they take out, we will simply replace him with 10 more like him? Don't they usually shoot politicians?" Jools was trying to deflect attention from the fact that maybe, just maybe, his little scheme had fucked up Harry's life.

"Well, Jools, these days, there is not such thing as a terrorist with self respect. People who are prepared to blow themselves up with a bomb and take busloads of innocent civilians with them have no compunction in shooting any one." Malcolm tried to point out the obvious to Jools. Surely Jools already knew this.

"I wonder, though. The audacity of shooting a senior member of the Service right on its doorstep! Look at the way it was carried out, it suggests that the hit was done by professional hit men. If you look at Harry's injuries, this thing looks personal. Bang, hit the heart. Bang, hit the head. They wanted Harry dead, not merely wounded." Adam pointed this out, ever the practical one.

"Well, the shooter didn't do the job properly, which means that if Harry lives, the shooter will probably not be paid the last installment of his fee for carrying out this hit." Jools did some quick calculations in his head as to how much this hit would cost on the market. These assassins were usually paid in installments, one payment made on accepting the job, another payment made depending on progress made and a final payment made when the target had been successfully killed.

"You're probably right, Jools," said Adam. "Nowadays, there are any number of assassins for hire on the streets of London, from the old Soviet Union, Eastern Europe, the Middle East and a whole range of other countries."

"If this was a specific hit, then they would have been casing Thames House for some time. When Harry got out of his car on street level this morning, they hit their jackpot. Have you boys and girls reviewed all available surveillance tapes in and around Thames House yet?"

Connie piped up. She started clicking on a remote control which brought up some footage on the LCD screen in front of them. "Yes, we have. It would appear that a team of three suspects has been snooping round Thames House for the past week. One on top of the roof of a nearby building and another who kept walking around the nearby streets. We believe that the actual shooter was a third person who had a motorbike parked nearby. As soon as he was told that Harry's car was approaching Thames House, he drove by in his bike. We actually have footage of him driving by, taking his gun out of his leather jacket and shooting Harry. We cannot see his face since he had a helmet on. Judging by the build of these three men, they do not look Caucasian."

Jools's eyes narrowed and a thought occurred to him, but he decided not to share that thought with the men in this room. "Its not cheap to order up an actual assassination these days. It must have cost this person somewhere in the region of a few hundred thousand quid, if my price list is up to date."

"Don't you think that its not purely coincidental that Harry has been shot on the day that Ruth came back? I am not suggesting that Ruth herself has anything to do with this, but perhaps someone with a grudge against Harry found out about our plans to resurrect Ruth and decided to teach Harry a lesson?" As usual, it was Adam who was able to connect the dots.

"Funny you should say that. Several people come to mind who has that kind of money for pocket change and connections to pull this one off. Well worth looking into. The more troubling question is, if the return of Ruth Evershed was the match that lit the torch, then how did this person know about our little arrangements? Who is our mole?" Jools started to worry. He wanted to raise the possibility that there might have been a leak within Section D but thought better of it. Maybe that nice young man he had taken under his wings since he came back was not as reliable as Jools thought. He made a mental note to put someone onto him and check him out … _really_ check him out this time.

The meeting broke up after Jools left instructions as to lines of enquiry each person was to pursue. Whilst Harry was out of action, Adam would act as temporary Head. Adam was not sure whether he could cope with the added responsibilities, what with at least three ops he was currently running. He was not sure whether he wanted Harry's job, now or sometime in the future. He desperately wanted to put a call through to his son at boarding school, just to make sure that he was alright. He felt really tired.

**All reviews will be gratefully received.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Same Disclaimer as before**

**This Chapter is dedicated to all ROGs and POGs who**

**work in the healthcare industry – you folks are amazing**

Chapter 4 Nurse Rachel

When Ruth reached the hospital, the reception desk redirected her to the surgical floor. The sister on duty on the surgical floor said that she could only discuss details relating to patients with their immediate family. Without hesitation, Ruth told her that she was Harry Pearce's wife and gave her name as Rachel Everington. It would not be the first time that she had told this lie. Then again, in the world of espionage, this did not really qualify as a lie, just a cover story used to gain more information. The sister then informed Ruth that her husband was in surgery. She could wait in one of the waiting rooms down the hall from the operating theatres.

"Rachel Everington" was one of the last legends which Ruth was working on before she left the Grid all those years ago. She used it even though she did not know whether any one had bothered to pad out the legend after she left, or whether any one had in fact used it and discarded it. It was a dangerous thing to have done, but she did not have a choice. She would have to tell Malcolm about it later.

Ruth sat down to wait. She noticed that the clock said it was 3 pm. After an hour, she started to pace. When she became tired of doing that, she sat down again. She was out of her mind with worry. From the waiting room, it was not possible to watch the entrance to the operating theatres, so every 15 minutes or so, Ruth would get up to check the entrance. Once or twice, they brought out some other patient who had been through surgery. Ruth was a little relieved each time when she saw that it was not Harry.

Ruth did not feel like flipping through the gossip magazines that were available in the waiting room. Those were not her usual reading material. She wished she had something to do. Having access to a computer would certainly help.

She was grateful when Adam, Malcolm and Connie turned up at 9 pm. By then Harry had been in surgery for over six hours. Ruth took some comfort in thinking that if the doctors were still working on him, there was a slim chance that he might pull through.

Malcolm brought her a department issue laptop and mobile phone. There was wi-fi in the hospital so at least she could try and hack into a couple of databases to find out what happened this afternoon. Hospitals generally discouraged the use of computers and mobile phones but at least in the waiting room section of this floor, the wi-fi signal was fairly strong and stable.

When Ruth told the three visitors that she had used the legend of "Rachel Everington", Malcolm agreed that it was probably a good idea that she did not use her real name. He did not think that that legend had ever been used. Adam debated whether he should tell Ruth that the assassination was precipitated by her return from the dead, but Ruth beat him to it.

"Adam, you don't think that the hit had anything to do with my coming back?"

Ruth expected a "no, no, Ruth, don't be silly" type response from Adam. But the look which Adam gave her said it all. Her deduction was spot on, as usual. Adam decided that Ruth must be told so that she could take greater care for her own safety.

"There is some concern that the assassins might make another attempt to finish the job. Its less clear, at this stage, whether they are also out to get you. We have arranged for a security detail for both you and Harry here, at the hospital, so you should be safe for the time being. Its probably a good idea for you to hide behind a legend for the time being so as to throw the scent off, if any of the assassins was looking for you." Ruth now wished she had never come back.

It took a woman to understand another woman. Connie knew what was going through Ruth's mind. In particular, she knew that no matter how hard they all tried, Ruth was not going to leave that waiting room until they wheeled Harry out, and if Harry lived, she was not going to leave the hospital. So Connie took the liberty of packing a small overnight bag for Ruth, complete with toiletry items and a change of clothing. The three of them left after sitting with Ruth for an hour. Ruth insisted they should all go home and have some rest.

Harry was finally wheeled out of the operating theatre at 11:30 pm. He had been in surgery for over 8 hours. They took him immediately to the intensive care unit. One of the surgeons stopped to give Ruth a report of what they had been doing for the past eight hours.

"Mr. Pearce suffered gun shot wounds both to his chest and his head. The bullet that went into his chest nicked his heart. If it had gone one centimeter to the left, he would not have survived. We spent a lot of time trying to repair the damage to his heart. He lost a lot of blood and it was touch and go at one stage. We lost his heartbeat more than once during these procedures." Ruth was glad that she did not have anything to eat all day; if she did, she might be throwing up violently by now.

"To complicate matters, another bullet also scraped past his head and caused damage to the left side of his skull. Two teams of surgeons worked on him at the same time. This is why it took so long. We managed to repair the damage to both his heart and head but we cannot be sure if there has been any brain damage, and if so, whether such damage is permanent or not." The doctor gave Ruth a moment to digest this information. He thought that this woman was going to collapse on him.

"Although the surgery is a success on the whole, Mr. Pearce is now in a coma, and it would be difficult to say when or whether he will come out of it. We just have to be patient and wait and see. He will need to stay in the ICU for at least two to three weeks, assuming that he makes any progress. We have done everything we can to repair his wounds. It is now up to him to get on the road to recovery."

Ruth thanked the doctor and went into Harry's room in the ICU. When she saw Harry, she could not stop the tears any more and started to sob quietly.

There was Harry lying in bed, with tubes coming out of every orifice. In order to repair the head wound, they had to shave his head and now he was wrapped in some sort of bandage turban. To ensure that Harry's airways were protected, he had been intubated with some contraption through his mouth. There was the obligatory IV drip attached to his arm, the better to give Harry his medicine and sustenance. Since he was comatose, they also had to put in a foley catheter tube to siphon away urine. There were also some other tubes and cables which were attached to Harry's chest at one end, and at the other end to a variety of machines which reported Harry's vital signs.

He looked so weak and defenseless. Ruth could not bear the sight of her Harry being reduced to this. At least his heart rate monitor showed that he was still clinging onto life. Since leaving Harry, Ruth often dreamed of the time when she might see him again. Never in her wildest dreams, or nightmares, did she think that she would see Harry looking like this.

Hospital rules were such that even family members were not allowed to stay in the ICU rooms indefinitely. Fortunately for Ruth, Connie had the foresight to make special arrangements with the hospital for Ruth to stay in one of the crash rooms used by doctors and nurses between shifts. This was not normal arrangements, but then again, Harry Pearce was not your normal patient. Ruth could not remember whether she slept at all, but at least she was still close to Harry. The sister on the ICU floor promised to wake her if Harry took a turn for the worse.

The next morning, Ruth woke early and as soon as she showered and dressed, she rushed to Harry's room in the ICU. She saw an agent positioned discretely at either end of this floor of the hospital. She arrived just as a nurse was injecting something into Harry's IV drip. Apparently the doctors had prescribed some penicillin to help with Harry's recovery. After she finished, the nurse took her tray of medicine and carried on with her duties with other ICU patients.

Shortly after the nurse left, Ruth noticed that Harry's life support machines started to blink and beep all over the place. Harry himself started to go blue in the face as if he had trouble breathing. Ruth might not have understood what was happening, but it was clear that whatever medicine they just injected into Harry was doing crazy things to his system, bad crazy things. Ruth immediately pressed the panic button.

The nurses rushed into Harry's room and quickly decided that Harry must be allergic to this particular brand of penicillin. By now one of the doctors also arrived and he immediately injected something to reverse the effects. They then noted on Harry's chart his new found allergy so that the mistake would not be repeated in future.

No one could have known that Harry would be allergic to this brand of penicillin. It was not noted in his medical history. He probably never had this brand of penicillin injected into him before. If Ruth had not been there and alerted the doctors and nurses in time, they might have lost Harry, or Harry might have suffered more damage to his organs. For the first time in a long time, Ruth felt that she had done something useful. She held Harry's hand and rubbed it gently, whispering to him, "its alright, you're back now, its OK."

When Adam and Malcolm came for a visit later that day, Ruth decided to discuss with them the morning incident.

"Harry's allergic reaction to penicillin was not something we could have anticipated. But it shows how easy it would be for one of the health care professionals to be coerced into giving Harry a fatal dose of something which might be untraceable. If, as you say, it remains a possibility that another attempt could be made on Harry's life, then I think that Harry needs more attentive care than just a couple of minders stationed outside his room. When Harry came into the ICU last night, he was the only patient in this ward. This morning, they received three other ICU patients. The nurses are now a little overstretched. What happened this morning was not the nurses' fault, of course, but it would be so much better if we can get a private nurse for Harry."

"Perhaps you ought to be his private nurse, Ruth." Malcolm was only half joking when he said that, but as soon as the words left his lips, he saw the sparkle in Ruth's eyes and he knew that that was not one of his better ideas. He could almost see the imaginary light bulb light up above Ruth's head, the way it is always depicted in a cartoon. _Oh no,_ Malcolm thought, _what have you done now, you silly old fool._

"Yes, you're right Malcolm. I am here at the hospital all day anyway. If the nurses can teach me all the basics, I am a fast learner, I can be Harry's private nurse. Its not as if the Grid wants me back straight away." Ruth brightened at this possibility.

Adam and Malcolm knew better than to waste time trying to talk Ruth out of this ludicrous idea. As long as they have not sorted out who ordered the hit on Harry, perhaps it was for the best that Ruth should be confined to the hospital. Adam and Malcolm were unsure whether the hospital would go for this idea of having Ruth take up nursing duties. They decided that Connie should be in charge of discussing the subject with the hospital administrator. Both men had things to do back on the Grid. Connie was the logical choice. She had already twisted the hospital's arm once before, when she arranged for Ruth to spend a night in one of the crash rooms. Connie could be most persuasive when she put her mind to it.

Malcolm would pad out Rachel's life as soon as he got back to the Grid, just in case the hospital, or any one else, was minded to check up on her. He would then send a package through to Ruth with all the necessary identification papers and supporting documents in the morning.

Malcolm also agreed to make arrangements with the small bed and breakfast place which was right next door to the hospital so that Ruth would not have to sleep in the crash rooms or commute between Connie's flat and the hospital. Malcolm wondered how many hours Ruth would actually spend at that B&B place. He had no doubt that Ruth was prepared to keep a constant vigil by Harry's bedside. Malcolm reminded himself to tell Ruth's security detail that this woman did not need eight hours' of sleep.

The next day, Connie James made an appointment to see the hospital administrator, Terry Jones.

"Mr. Jones, good morning. I am Connie James, one of Sir Harry Pearce's colleagues. We spoke the other day about using one of your crash rooms the night Sir Harry was brought in. On behalf of our department, I want to thank you and your staff for what you have done for Sir Harry. This is a dreadful business, isn't it."

"Yes, Ms James, it is. As if it is not enough for the criminal gangs to run around London shooting each other and then clogging up our wards so that we can take care of their gunshot wounds and overdoses, they are now shooting at government officers. At this rate, the hospitals will not be able to cope. Law abiding citizens with genuine illnesses are made to suffer when we cannot attend to them as quickly as we should."

Terry Jones had signed the Official Secrets Act and knew that his hospital was regularly used by various branches of the Government to treat their sick or wounded officers. He also knew that Harry Pearce must be someone important, otherwise, he would not be talking to this woman twice in three days. He was aware that two agents had been posted on the ICU floor. However, he was not inclined to ask too many questions. He figured that the less he knew the better. After all, the hospital was only responsible for providing health care, and what with the Hippocratic oath and all, their's is not to reason why. The sooner they could patch up patients, the sooner they could tend to others; maintaining a high patient turnover rate would ensure high cashflow, and that was the hospital administrator's main concern.

"Ah yes, Mr. Jones, I'm glad you brought up the subject of the hospital's resources being stretched to the limits."

Jones was confused. What was this woman talking about? That's not exactly what I just said. Why was she twisting my words? Was she suggesting that somehow we have been incompetent in looking after this Pearce fellow?

"You see, Mr. Jones, Sir Harry, is a very important senior civil servant. Given the circumstances under which he sustained his injuries, the Government is keen to ensure that he is given the best and most efficient care, to have him back on his feet as quickly as possible, so to speak. We need to show the folks who carried out this awful deed that we are made of sterner stuff."

Connie decided not to bring up the allergy incident. She would save it for later, if Terry Jones put up too much of a fight.

"We are giving Sir Harry the best care available and …"

"No doubt you are, Mr. Jones. I am not suggesting otherwise. Its just that we have a member of staff available who can act as Sir Harry's private nurse. If she can become involved in his care, that might free up some of your nursing staff to attend to other patients. She may not have had a lot of training as a health care professional, but she is very bright and is a quick learner. I'm sure that if one of your sisters can take her through the various procedures, teach her how to change dressings etc., she could help ease the pressure on your nursing staff."

Terry Jones was not happy with this suggestion at all. Alarm bells were already ringing. _Think of the negligence suits I would have to field if this person without proper training were to cock up and give the patient the wrong pill, or wrong dosage._ It would not be the first time that this sort of mistake has taken place, but at least in these other cases, the culprit was a proper member of staff and would be covered by the hospital's insurance policy. To bring in some outsider, without proper training, to look after a coma patient currently in the ICU. This must be the worst suggestion he has heard in his entire life. If he were to go along with this outrageous suggestion, how would he even begin to ask the Government to absolve the hospital from all liabilities if something should go wrong?

"Look Mr. Jones, I can well appreciate that this is not a simple or straightforward suggestion. Why don't you discuss this with your ICU staff and get back to me, say, by 4 pm today? I'm sure we can work something out over the liability issue."

_Who was this woman and how could she read my mind?_ Terry Jones had no choice but to agree. After Connie James left his office, Terry Jones asked sister Margaret to see him in his office as soon as possible.

Margaret Jameson had been in charge of the ICU for over 15 years. She loved her job and would not do anything to jeopardize it. She derived great satisfaction in seeing ICU patients recover from a variety of life threatening diseases and wounds. Not everyone made it out of the ICU, of course, and for those who did not, it was usually not the nurses' fault. The doctors have tried their best. Margaret was very strict with her junior nurses. They did not normally like to work on the ICU floor if they could possibly help it. Margaret had a fearsome reputation.

"Margaret, do you know that woman who has been camping in the ICU, next to the patient, Harry Pearce?"

"Yes, I know who you mean. She is his wife, or something."

"Well no, apparently not. She is simply someone who works in the same Government department as he does. She is now angling to become the patient's private nurse. No, no, this is not a comment on the quality of the care which you and your team have been giving Mr. Pearce, or Sir Harry, I should say. But it has been suggested to me that if this woman could receive training from you on the basic procedures, then perhaps she could take some of the pressures off your team."

Margaret thought that for Terry Jones to discuss with her the care of patients in the ICU, someone important must have leaned on him. Normally, as long as she worked within the assigned budget, Jones pretty much left her team alone. Margaret had also signed the Official Secrets Act and knew all about dealing with the Government where certain patients were concerned. Pearce was not the first high ranking civil servant who had come under her care and he would probably not be her last. Margaret had already noticed the posting of two agents on her floor. Things must be serious if it was now suggested that an outsider without proper training should be brought in as extra "help". Margaret knew all about yesterday morning's little incident involving penicillin. She did not want to bring this to Terry Jones's attention. He would just freak out as usual.

As for this woman who called herself Rachel Everington. She seemed pleasant enough, although she was very inquisitive, more so than other family members or friends in similar situations. From the outset, she had been quizzing her team about the treatment which they were giving Harry Pearce. _What is this machine for, what does it do, what happens when that machine goes beeping?_ _ What medicine did you just give him?_ She was always very polite when she was in full inquisition mode and she had such a pleasant smile that you did not usually end up feeling offended by all these questions.

"I suppose if I kept an eye on her, Terry, she may not do any harm and might even, as you say, take some of the pressure off the rest of my team. I guess on that basis, I have no objection if she is installed as Sir Harry's private nurse."

"Splendid. I will notify the powers that be immediately. If she is still around, I suggest that you start bringing her up to speed right away. Now, I will let you get back to your duties."

When she returned to the ICU ward, sure enough, there was Rachel Everington, as always, hovering over Harry Pearce as if she was casting spells to try and make him come out of his coma.

"Hello Rachel. How are you today? Let's see. There's been no change in Sir Harry's condition overnight, so I guess that's good news."

"I suppose we should be grateful for small mercies."

"I understand that you are to become Sir Harry's private nurse. Well, we should start training you up straightaway then. I have some free time now, shall we begin?"

Ruth thought, _my my, Connie was a fast worker_. She had only discussed this matter with Adam and Malcolm yesterday afternoon and already the wheels were in motion. She brought a writing pad out of her bag to start taking notes.

Sister Margaret described to Rachel the functions of each machine. She taught Rachel how to take a blood pressure reading and check for urine colour and volume in the bag attached to the foley catheter. If the volume of urine collected in one of those bags dropped, or if the colour changed, that was a sign that Harry's kidneys were packing up and he should receive immediate attention. Rachel should also check for changes in Harry's blood pressure. If he was cold to the touch, then that was a sign that his blood pressure was dropping. Again, Rachel should alert one of the other nurses immediately so that they could give him another blood transfusion or iron tablets. If Harry was warm to the touch, Rachel should check his temperature immediately as he might have a fever. A fever could be a sign of infection in one or more of his internal organs.

Next sister Margaret gave detailed instructions as to what medicine to give Harry, how much and how often. She taught Rachel how to knock air bubbles out of a syringe before injecting any medicine into Harry's veins, how to set up an IV drip and how to use the stethoscope to listen to Harry's lungs. Coma patients often developed pneumonia and they must make sure that that did not happen. She then taught Rachel how to change the dressings on Harry's chest and on his head.

Lastly, she instructed Rachel on how to stretch Harry's arms and legs and give him a dry rubdown every day. Nurses have to do this for bedridden patients. It was necessary that the patient's blood circulation be given a good workout from time to time to prevent muscle atrophy. It was also essential that comatose patients are kept physically clean at all times. For one thing, this would prevent the patient from developing bedsores because they were immobile. Furthermore, patients continued to perspire even if they were in a coma, so for hygienic reasons, a regular rubdown was necessary. Some hospitals might have health care professionals other than nurses to do this sort of grunt work, but sister Margaret somehow had a feeling that Rachel would insist on doing this job herself.

This was how Ruth became Rachel Everington, private nurse to Sir Harry Pearce.

**All reviews will be gratefully received.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Same disclaimer as before**

Chapter 5

The Man without Memories

Ruth was glad to have all those duties to attend to. It was better than just sitting there, worried sick. As with every job she had ever done, she carried out her nursing duties with a high degree of professionalism.

She had done some research on the internet. They said that some coma patients could hear you, even if they were otherwise unresponsive. In between her chores, Ruth would read from the newspapers to Harry. Alternatively, Ruth would talk to Harry as if he was part of the conversation. She reminded him of ops they were on, taking care not to speak too loudly in case one of the ICU nurses or family members of other ICU patients could hear her. Sometimes she would recite from favourite poems or novels. Mostly she left Harry alone so that he could rest.

Every now and then, Ruth would feel frustrated. _All this talking to myself cannot be doing me any good. Why wouldn't he wake up?_ The doctors said that after such a traumatic experience, Harry's brain had gone into protective mode and it would take time before this lockdown was reversed. It sounded as though the doctors were confident that Harry would emerge from his coma, yet when Ruth pressed them further, they remained vague as to Harry's prognosis and declined to give a time frame for recovery.

After a lot of debate with herself, Ruth decided that on the whole, she was glad to be here. What if Harry was shot in some other op and she had to find out via news reports? She would have moved mountain and earth to sneak back to London to try and see Harry. At least now, she had a legitimate cover to maintain constant vigil by Harry's bedside.

Ruth received numerous requests from the people on the Grid, and from other government departments, to come for a visit. She turned them all down. She did not want anyone to see Harry in a vegetative state. They were all busy people, she argued. They should come and visit after Harry woke up. She did thank them all for the flowers and get well cards Harry has received. She did not have the heart to tell them that flowers were not allowed in the ICU. She had to give away the flowers to the nurses or sent to the pediatrics ward to cheer up the sick kids. She did manage to take pictures of each arrangement she received, with the camera in her mobile phone, and she carefully recorded the names of the senders. She downloaded these photos to her laptop and prepared a list of thank you notes for Harry to sign, when he woke up. Harry always said that he appreciated her organizational skills.

The word which Ruth always used in her thoughts was "when" Harry woke up. She briefly considered the other possibility : what if Harry did not wake up and a decision had to be made to turn off all life support machines? None of the doctors had ever raised this possibility, so Ruth did not know where she got this notion from. Ruth was just being her old analytical self. She was being practical, and wanted to cover all contingencies. The idea was too awful to consider and when it did make an appearance in her brain, it never failed to get her all teary eyed.

_You cannot do this to me, Harry Pearce. We have unfinished business. You have to wake up and this time, I will make you tell me what it was that you wanted to tell me that day on that dockside. If you wake up, I promise I will never run away from you again, no matter what happens. Even if you no longer feel about me the same way as you did before. As long as I still have your friendship._

Perhaps there was a god after all. Two weeks after Harry was sent to the ICU, he regained consciousness.

When Ruth was giving him the usual dry rubdown, she noticed that one of Harry's toes twitched when she tried to clean between his toes. She thought that it was just normal reflex. Then the entire foot moved, followed by movement in the fingers on his right hand. Soon, he was struggling against the breathing tube they had inserted down his throat. Ruth immediately alerted the other nurses.

"Calm down Mr. Pearce," said one of the doctors who had now arrived. "We will remove the tube from your throat. Now on the count of three, cough as hard as you can and the tube will be out."

After the breathing tube was removed, Harry continued to cough and sputter. Ruth gave him a sip of water and cleaned his mouth. Harry slowly opened his eyes and looked around the room.

Ruth was overjoyed. "Hey there, welcome back."

Harry blinked and said nothing. There was no sign of recognition in his eyes. It looked as if he had never seen Ruth before.

"When patients emerge from a coma, they do not usually regain mobility in all of their limbs or the ability to speak right away," the doctor informed Ruth. "This process will take several days, as the body slowly lurches back into operational mode." Ruth was happy just to see Harry regain consciousness. The fact that he regarded her as a total stranger was not important, not now anyway.

On the third day after Harry regained consciousness, he asked Ruth in a hoarse voice, "Who are you and where am I?"

"You are in the ICU. You were shot and suffered some serious injuries."

There was a doctor in the room when this took place. That, and the fact that Harry had no memory of her at this time, made Ruth decide to keep to her legend for the time being.

"I'm Rachel, your private nurse."

Still no sign of recognition.

The doctor who was doing his morning rounds spoke. "Mr. Pearce, can you wriggle the toes on your left foot for me please. Good, very good. Now try and follow my finger as I move it from left to right. Very good. Can you remember your name and do you know what year this is?"

"No. I …, I …, my …" Then he closed his eyes again as he tried to search for relevant information in his brain.

"That's OK Mr. Pearce, we'll take this nice and slow. Don't worry. Just take a rest for now. You have been through a lot in the last few weeks."

Outside Harry's room, the doctor explained to Ruth what was happening to Harry.

"Rachel, the good news is that Mr. Pearce has emerged from his coma. He appears to have suffered only limited brain damage since it looks as though he still has good motor and speech skills. The bad news is that because of the traumatic nature of his injuries, he has temporary amnesia. This is not uncommon in patients in similar situations. A psychiatrist will be assigned to him in order to give a more accurate assessment of his brain injuries." By now, the doctor was used to the look of shock and dismay on the faces of family members who were given this information in similar situations.

"I am confident that in time, he will regain some of his memories but it is difficult to say how long this process will take. You must also be aware that even if he gets his memory back, he may not regain all of his memories. He will have a better chance of retrieving long term memory but may be inclined to block out more recent experiences." The doctor noticed that Ruth was not taking this information well.

"I have just checked on his wounds. I am happy to say that they are healing nicely. You have obviously done a good job in looking after his dressings. I will make some changes to his medication. Sister Margaret will brief you on these later on. I will check back on him tomorrow when I do my rounds."

Ruth was unsure how to assess this recent development. Sure she was happy that Harry was now awake, but he did not know who he was, let alone who she was; well no, that's not entirely correct, she had just given him her legend, an entirely new person, so Harry now knew her as Rachel instead of Ruth.

Even if he remembered everything else, there was still a chance that her place in his memories would have been lost, irretrievably. _Come on, you've come this far, don't give up hope_, Ruth told herself. Right now, she had to concentrate on a new task, to help Harry regain his memory. But first, she sent an email to Adam, Malcolm and Connie to give them the good news.

One week after Harry regained consciousness, Tring sent a psychiatrist to visit Harry. His name was Dr. John Middleton. Dr. Middleton had privileges in this hospital and given his specialty in helping coma patients and his training in psychotherapy, Tring felt that it was more appropriate to assign him to the case than Diana Jewell or any of the other psychiatrists on staff.

John Middleton was a tall, handsome, rugged looking type who wore the currently fashionable day old stubble. All the nurses swooned when he walked by. He did not pay any attention to Ruth at first. He thought that she was just one of the nurses. From early on in his career, John Middleton had decided not to fraternize with the nurses. He would respect them on a professional level, but he would not have anything to do with them on a social basis. If you were a doctor and you broke up with a nurse, it could make life very difficult in the work place.

"Good morning, Mr. Pearce. And how are we today?"

"Not as well as one would hope. You see these bandages, I could do without them for starters. My head still hurts and I cannot remember a damn thing about my life. I hope life is treating you better." Harry wanted to add "you sanctimonious prig" but thought better of it.

"OK, here's a start. Anger is good, in these circumstances, though it does nothing for your blood pressure. You have been through a traumatic incident. It will take time for your brain to start functioning normally again. From now on, we will have these chats on a daily basis. For each session, we will do some mental exercises which are designed to help you remember things about your life." Dr. Middleton did not like the look which Harry just gave him.

"It would be too easy for us to simply tell you about your past. It does not work that way. After all, you are the only one who knows about your past life. So it is essential that you remember things on your own. That's the only way we can ensure that you regain and retain all the relevant memories. I just stopped by today to introduce myself. I shall be back tomorrow. Have a good day."

As John Middleton turned to leave, Ruth stopped him in order to ask more questions about Harry's current status. That was when he noticed her.

He answered all of Rachel's questions patiently. John Middleton thought to himself, this woman was taking her duties a little too seriously to be your usual private nurse. Since he knew that he was treating a spook, he assumed that Rachel must be some sort of bodyguard for the patient. As far as bodyguards go, she was more emotional towards the patient than your run of the mill security detail. _So, what was her real relationship with the patient?_

Now that Rachel got his attention, he studied her facial features more closely. John noticed that she had a lovely oval face which was made more attractive by a pair of large, expressive eyes. The longer he looked at her, the more attracted he became to this woman. Then there was her voice. A very soothing, husky tone. _I could easily spend an afternoon gazing into her eyes or listen to her read the phone book_, John noted, _and god knows its been a long time since a woman has produced this kind of response in me_. In the end, the dimples were the clincher. He decided that he must find out more about Rachel.

Even though Harry was now better, the doctors kept him in the ICU for another week before he was transferred to one of the other wards. Harry snorted when he heard this and gave his doctors a filthy look.

Since Harry regained consciousness, Ruth noticed that he seemed to be in a perpetual bad mood. Perhaps that was understandable, given his frustration in not being able to remember who he was and what he had done in the past. The doctors had said that anger was not an uncommon trait in recently traumatized patients. Ruth always knew that Harry could be bad tempered, and it was a shame that right now, that was the only side of his personality that had resurfaced. He could be very rude to the nurses, except for sister Margaret and Ruth. He seemed to have a grudging respect for sister Margaret, because of her seniority. As for Ruth, since she gave as good as she got, Harry learnt very quickly that this was one nurse that he should not mess about.

Ruth tried her best to protect the other nurses from Harry's temper tantrums. She did not leave his room unless it was absolutely necessary or when he was asleep. One day, she thought it would be safe if she took time off to do some shopping for essentials and got a haircut. Harry usually napped for a few hours each afternoon.

Ruth had to be accompanied by an agent when she left the hospital. She was delayed in getting out of the hospital because the agent who was supposed to take the place of her agent on the ICU floor was late. All she needed was a trim but she didn't count on the hairdressers being so busy. By the time she got back to the hospital, she noticed that she had taken longer than she should. As she approached his room, she could hear cursing and dishes being thrown on the floor. _What now?_

"This food is not fit for human consumption. It must be against the law to serve this kind of crap to sick people," Harry bellowed.

When Ruth came into the room, she saw what was the trouble. Harry was served dinner by the hospital staff, took one bite and swept the entire contents of the tray onto the floor. The lady who was in charge of serving meals to patients was cowering in one corner of the room, on the verge of tears. The bear with the sore head had struck again.

Ruth did not say a word. She gave the meals lady a comforting squeeze on the arm and a smile. She then proceeded to help her clean the mess on the floor.

"Well, I'm glad to see that the gastronomical section of your brain is functioning well," Ruth said, finally, when the mess was more or less cleared.

"I may have lost my memory, but I know, sure as hell, that my normal diet does not include this sort of rubbish."

"Well, here's a thought. You do realize that you have suffered major injuries to your body."

"That should be plainly obvious to anyone, even a blind person can see that."

"Alright, hear me out. Your body has been under siege and now needs time and sustenance to recover. As far as I can see, this crap you have been served is approved by the hospital nutritionist. There is absolutely nothing wrong with it. I'll grant you that its not as tasty as something that a restaurant might serve, but we are not in a restaurant, are we? If you don't eat, you won't get better. I know that you are not used to being in such a helpless position, but there is something you can do to reduce that helplessness and become strong again."

"What are you saying?"

"Having a temper tantrum will only elevate your blood pressure and we all know that that's not good for you. If you are as clever as everyone seems to think you are, then you should know that in the face of adversity, you should always go with the flow and bide your time until conditions improve. In your case those conditions will improve as you regain your memory."

"I suppose I can see the point which you are making."

"You have to eat, otherwise it will delay your recovery process. How about I order up some sandwiches and a salad for you, not from the hospital cafeteria, but from the deli across the road."

"I don't want tuna and I don't like tomato soup." That was what Harry had been served the last few days.

"Alright, no tuna or tomato soup. Just for today. We can't make a habit of bringing in outside food for you. Anyway, you need to behave and stop giving the nurses and helpers a hard time. If you're good, I'll take you out to a proper restaurant when you get better and let you eat whatever you want." It was like talking to a three year old.

There was something authoritative about his nurse and her arguments. Even though Harry didn't like being talked to like he was a child, he felt a little tired after that little tirade. He had a feeling that he was not going to win any arguments with her. Anyway, what she said sounded logical, and it was so much better hearing it from her than one of the other nurses.

"I will hold you to that promise."

"I know you feel frustrated and all, but there is no reason to take this out on the hospital staff. They are only doing their job, they have done nothing wrong."

Harry turned that comment over in his head. She had a point. It was not like him to vent his anger on more junior officers who were simply following orders. It was those people who pretended to be experts when they were not, or those who were simply not trying that usually got the full force of his anger and sarcasm. Junior officers. Why did he think in terms of 'junior officers'? Did he use to be in the army? If so, did he see action in any war or armed conflict? How did he know, with a degree of certainty, that he used to berate only fools?

Harry filed that information away for further consideration. He supposed that he ought to apologise to the meals lady, but he was too proud to admit that he was wrong. No, he would make it up to her another day. That was another trait to file away. He was a proud man and was used to be in a position of authority. Maybe he was a general in an army or something. They did say that he was shot. If he simply had a desk job, he wouldn't be shot, would he?

A few days later, Adam, Malcolm and Connie came by for a visit. On Dr. Middleton's advice, each person only came in for 5 minutes, just to say 'hi'. By this time, Harry's head wound had healed sufficiently well so that his dressing no longer resembled a turban. His hair had also started to grow back. Ruth suggested that perhaps Harry could wear a hat of some sort to hide his head wound. Harry grunted and gave her a filthy look. Ruth took that as a "no".

Again, on Dr. Middleton's orders, each person was instructed not to volunteer information about Harry's past to him. For a first visit, each person was ushered into the room, exchanged pleasantries and then left. Harry was on his best behaviour throughout this visit. He did not make any snide remarks or shout at anyone. He regarded each visitor with a degree of apprehension, but decided ultimately that he liked these people, for whatever reason.

After the team left and John Middleton was finished with Harry, he asked if Rachel would like to have coffee with him in the cafeteria. Ruth initially declined his offer but since he was quite insistent, Ruth relented. Harry had been given his medicine and she knew that he would doze off soon. She needed a break anyway.

Ruth found Dr. Middleton very easy to talk to. He was only a few years older than Ruth. She was surprised that Dr. Middleton was so keen to tell her about himself. _Maybe I am a good listener_, Ruth thought. _I have always been a good listener._

"I've been divorced now for five years. No children. My ex-wife is a neuro surgeon with a very busy practice. We met at university, but once we started working, we saw less and less of each other. In the end, we both just felt that we have stopped caring for each other and divorce was the logical next step. It was all very amicable. We still run into each other professionally. How about you? With all that time you have logged in that room, do you have any kind of social life?"

Ruth decided to keep to her cover as a private nurse. There was no reason for her to disclose her true identity to this doctor, not yet anyway. She was not used to discussing her private life with strangers.

"I guess not. When I am on a job, I give it 100. My patients need me, otherwise they wouldn't have employed me. Since they are paying me on basis of 24/7 care, I really can't complain if that does not leave me with any sort of social life. I don't really mind. Its not often that I get this sort of assignment. There are times when the agency does not call and I get worried if I will ever get another nursing gig. I like my work." As usual, Ruth was able to lie convincingly in character.

Dr. Middleton thought that Rachel was wrong in her assessment of her importance. Private nurses were usually employed on 12 hour shifts, not 24/7. Unless you were a doctor doing your internship, no one worked for 24 hours a day non-stop, seven days a week. He also noticed that Rachel did not say anything about her family, or give any clue as to her marital status. He decided not to press this topic and moved on to their respective interests and hobbies.

After that first coffee, Dr. Middleton made it a habit of stopping by Harry's room after he has completed his rounds to see if Rachel wanted a break. Sometimes Ruth would make excuses and say that she was busy with some aspect or other about Harry's care, but once in a while, she would take a break with Dr. Middleton. She did not want to be rude to Harry's psychiatrist. She could take the opportunity to pick his brains about Harry's recovery.

When Dr. Middleton found himself being quizzed by Rachel for the umpteenth time about what they could do to improve Harry's memory, he pointed this out to her.

"Without sounding like a pessimist, you cannot rush this kind of thing, and you should prepare for the possibility that there might be parts of Harry's past life that he might never remember. I'm not saying that he will somehow be disabled. I mean, the human brain is a wonderful piece of equipment. Even now, we don't know enough about the brain to say with certainty how it will behave or react in a given set of circumstances. I have seen patients recover 100 of their memories. In fact, looking at them now, you wouldn't be able to tell that they suffered from amnesia at one time. Equally, I have had patients who made poor recovery. When that happens, it can be very hard for families and loved ones to accept the reality of the situation."

"It would be a shame if Harry ends up losing part of his memories. Its so unfair. Its not as if he asked to be shot at."

"I think you are taking your job too seriously. You worry too much. There's nothing certain about Mr. Pearce's prognosis. We just have to wait and see. You need to take some time off, pull back from the job a little. Didn't you say that you liked 40s movies? They are doing a Greer Garson revival in the cinema down the road. Would you like to take in a movie with me one of these nights? I don't usually get paged in the evenings, so I should be able to get away."

That was the first time Ruth realized that Dr. Middleton was expecting more from these coffee sessions than she was prepared to offer. She was not finished with Harry Pearce yet, how could she start another romantic liaison? She declined his offer politely. She also decided that she was not going to have coffee with Dr. Middleton again. There was no point in leading this man on. Yet, she must take care to remain friendly with this doctor. Right now, he was Harry's only hope of making a full recovery, or so Ruth thought.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Same disclaimer as before**

Chapter 6

The Road to Wellville

When Harry recovered sufficiently to get out of bed, the doctors removed the foley catheter and other tubes which he was hooked up to. The first time Harry tried to get out of bed to go for a pee, he needed to lean on Rachel before he could make it to the bathroom. Once inside, he gave Rachel a look and made her turn around whilst he did his business. With or without a memory, Harry did not want someone else looking on whilst he relieved his bladder.

Now that Harry had regained mobility, he also insisted on cleaning himself but since he still had bandages on his chest and head, that was obviously going to cause a problem. They gave him a stool to sit on whilst in the shower so that he could wash the lower half of his body by himself. Ruth stood guard outside the shower cubicle to make sure that he would not wet his bandages unduly, or to offer help in case he encountered difficulties. When he was done with lower half of his body himself, he would let Rachel wipe his upper body with a wash cloth.

Ruth thought that it was amusing that Harry should be suddenly coy about his body. She did not have the heart to tell him that by now, she had seen every inch of his body when he was still in a coma.

The doctors encouraged Rachel to take Harry on short walks around the hospital grounds, in order to regain strength in his body. The hospital was one of those modern monstrosities, all concrete and glass. It was also situated in the city so there was a distinct lack of trees and shrubbery. Harry was not happy about walking around this building.

Two months after Harry was shot, Ruth found herself party to this conversation between Harry and his doctor.

"What's the worst that could happen if I were to be discharged immediately?" Harry was being his grumpy self.

"Its much too early to talk about a discharge, Mr. Pearce. There is still the chance of a stroke, a heart attack or you might develop some other complication. When that happens, you really ought to be given immediate medical attention. You won't get that if you removed yourself from the hospital." The doctor was being very patient when he explained this to Harry. He was a bit ambivalent about discharging Harry Pearce so soon. He would feel more comfortable if he could monitor Harry's progress closely for another week or two.

"I'll take my chances. Hospitals are for sick people, and as far as I can see, I have only been wounded, I am not sick. I don't like being around sick people. My wounds would probably heal much faster if I was out of this place. I'm sure that if my nurse here stayed with me, that's all the medical attention I'd need."

At the next available opportunity, Ruth made a suggestion to Malcolm and Adam. _Why not transfer Harry to one of the safe houses and save some costs?_ Harry appeared to have recovered sufficiently from his wounds and was no longer dependent on machines. _Maybe if Harry was in a domestic environment, that might accelerate his memory recovery process._ As long as his medication was delivered to the safe house on a regular basis, Ruth should be able to manage. Harry's psychiatrist could make house calls to continue with his sessions with Harry.

After looking through the available list of safe houses, the team found one which was just outside London. There was a small local hospital nearby where Harry could go for his regular checkups or in case of emergencies. It was also relatively close to Tring so that Dr. Middleton did not have to make too much of a commute on a regular basis. On his insistence, Harry was discharged against medical advice.

The safe house itself was a modest two storey house with a small garden at the back. There was generous spacing between this house and neighbouring houses, so Ruth did not have to worry about snooping neighbours. The local high street had a good selection of shops which sold the essential things in life. It was within walking distance if Ruth simply wanted to make small purchases. For more bulky items, it was always possible to ask one of the surveillance guys to drive her to and from the shops. Yes, until they have sorted out who ordered the hit on Harry, security around Harry and Ruth was still tight. In addition to the surveillance team, the local police was also asked to send a constable or two to call in at the house at regular intervals to make sure that everything was alright.

Also within walking distance of the house was a small woodland area with some pleasant trails for walkers to explore. This was where Ruth took Harry on his regular afternoon walks, always trailed by two beefy looking agents keeping a discreet distance.

Ruth felt sorry for the surveillance guys. It must be one of the most boring jobs in the world since nothing much ever happened in and around the safe house. She would sometimes invite them in for coffee and a chat. It broke up the monotony of her day, and provided relief for these agents. Always a good listener, Ruth loved to find out more about these agent's background and private lives, not in a gossipy way, but more as a matter of genuine interest. The agents loved spending time with Ruth. After one of these little tête-à-têtes, they returned to the surveillance van feeling refreshed.

Harry was given the main bedroom, whilst Ruth took the room across the hall from Harry, the better to jump to his assistance if anything happened during the night. There was a study and this was converted into a study cum medicine room. This was where Ruth kept all of Harry's medicine, and medical records of his blood pressure, heart rate etc. Malcolm arranged for a computer system to be installed in this room, with a secured line back to the Grid. Malcolm also arranged for secured wi-fi facilities to be installed in the house so that Ruth could also go online.

As soon as they made arrangements to move to the safe house, Ruth also arranged for some of Harry's personal effects to be brought from his house. These included the pets, Harry's dog, Scarlett, and her cat, Fidget. After Harry was shot, the Service arranged for these animals to stay with a boarding place so that they could be looked after and fed. The animals did not have a lot of mobility in those places and they should not really stay in these facilities for long periods of time. They have been there now for over two months, it was time that they were liberated. Ruth felt that it might do Harry some good to have these animals around him again.

As soon as Fidget was let out of the cage, he made for the nearest couch and hid way back where Ruth could not reach him. He was not going to come out until he got to know the lay of the land. Animals have a strong sense of smell and could remember each person by his or her unique scent. Dogs were more trusting than cats. Scarlett started to sniff around Ruth but failed to find a match in her little brain. Then she made a beeline for Harry. Scarlett obviously had no trouble remembering Harry because after a couple of sniffs, she jumped onto the couch, stood on her hind legs and started to lick Harry's face.

"Scarlett, you sexy beast!" It was one of the few times in recent months that Ruth saw Harry in a happy mode. Well, Harry remembered the name of his dog. That was a good sign.

The Service sent one of its housekeeping teams to clean the safe house. They came three times a week to clean and do laundry and ironing work. Mrs. Cooper, the head of this particular team, would also cook a light supper for them on days when she visited. Other days, Ruth made do with simple meals for herself and Harry.

On the whole, Harry was pleased with these arrangements. It got him out of the hospital. God, he hated hospitals. Of that, he was certain. Harry also hated taking his medicine since he did not like the fact that his body was being loaded up with all sorts of chemicals. There was a wide assortment of pills which was prescribed for him. Some were essential to heal the chest and head wounds, others were optional – sleeping pills, painkillers, that kind of thing; pills to be taken only if the patient felt that it was necessary.

That was another thing he knew about himself - he hated having to take pills for any aches and pains unless it was absolutely necessary and the pain was unbearable. Harry asked a lot of questions about the pills he was given, what was each one for and possible side effects etc. Luckily for Ruth, she had done her research, at the hospital and via the internet, so she had an answer for each of Harry's questions.

As far as his private nurse was concerned, Harry thought that she was a force of nature. He hated the morning interrogation sessions. _How did you sleep? Have you had a bowel movement and if so, what was the colour and consistency of your stools? How about urine? Colour and volume? Here, put on the heart rate monitor. There, give us your arm, time to take your blood pressure. Are you in any sort of pain? Here's your morning assortment of pills to take. Now we have to change your dressing, take off your shirt._ Still, if he had to be bossed around by any one, Harry would rather that it was by Rachel than anyone else.

As he spent more time with Rachel, Harry had a nagging feeling that she reminded him of someone he had a lot of affection for, once upon a time. Yet try as he might, he could never bring up an image of this person or recall her name. Harry wondered whether it was an old school friend or something like that. Someone he had known so long ago that he now had trouble remembering.

Harry looked forward to having his dressings changed everyday by Rachel. In order to do the job properly, Rachel would have to lean in close to Harry's head and chest. It gave Harry a chance to smell her hair and get close to her cheek. He had this irresistible urge to plant a little kiss on her cheek but always managed to stop himself at the crucial moment.

_Why are you behaving in this way, you lecherous old fool? She's just a woman, for chrissakes. You're acting like someone who would chase anything in skirts. Maybe I was a womanizer. Then why do I feel like there is only one person I want to chase?_

Rachel had short hair. Yet Harry had no trouble imagining Rachel with longer hair, down to her shoulders. He could also picture Rachel wearing her hair all tied up as one ponytail, or just loose around her face. Since he only became acquainted with her at the hospital, Harry could not understand why he kept having these images in his head.

Harry also noticed a hint of sadness in Rachel's eyes. That was why he had this incredible desire to please her and not upset her. Sometimes when he felt like acting up and saying something really cutting to her, he invariably held himself in check and swallowed his words.

Harry was glad to have Scarlett with him. He was in charge of Scarlett's leash. It gave his hands something to do during their daily afternoon walks. More than once, Harry was tempted to reach over and hold Rachel's hand. He did not know why he had this inclination. He did not care that this would have been observed by the agents following behind them. There were a few times when Rachel nearly tripped on some fallen branches, and Harry immediately took her arm to keep her from falling. He could have taken advantage of the situation and continued to hold Rachel's hand. But he felt that it was wrong to do this and took his hand back.

As for Ruth, she continued to be worried that Harry had not shown any signs of remembering her. Harry had always behaved like a perfect gentleman and she had no idea what was actually going through his head. She had trouble sleeping at night, worried about what might happen the next day, the day after that and so on. Ruth had always been a light sleeper. So when Harry started having nightmares shortly after they took up residence in the safe house and woke up screaming, with cold sweat poring out of him, it did not take her long to jump out of bed and into Harry's room.

Ruth took a small wash cloth and wiped the cold sweat from his face. She then held Harry tightly and told him that everything was going to be OK, it was only a nightmare.

At first, Harry would cling to her, still whimpering but settling down. Then as soon as he regained his composure, he would untangle himself from Ruth, murmured apologies and turned away from Ruth before falling asleep.

The first time this happened, Ruth felt a tremendous sense of rejection. _He does not remember who I am and does not want any love or affection from me. What am I going to do?_ After this happened a few more times, Ruth became used to this ritual of Harry turning away from her. She discussed these nightmarish outbursts with Dr. Middleton.

"Yes, this happens to coma patients. Harry's brain is slowly coming out of lockdown mode and as more and more memories resurface, Harry would find it hard to cope as the images going through his mind will not make much sense to him. It would be like a very badly edited film. In time, however, he should be able to organize these images into a coherent pattern and reconstruct his memories. If Harry has trouble sleeping, I can always prescribe sleeping tablets."

Harry's nightmares were a direct result of him refusing to take anymore sleeping tablets. He had enough of those when he was still in hospital. He stopped having nightmares after the first week in the safe house.

Dr. Middleton would usually arrive by about 10 in the morning and spent an hour or so with Harry. When Dr. Middleton came for his daily visits with Harry, they would use the study.

"Rachel, please sit in with us," Harry said to Ruth the first time he had a session with Dr. Middleton at the safe house.

"Mr. Pearce, this is highly unusual …" Dr. Middleton felt that these were supposed to be private sessions, and having another person participate would break all kinds of rules about doctor/patient privilege. When they were still at the hospital, it was difficult to exclude Rachel from his sessions with Harry, but surely now that they were in a domestic setting, she did not need to sit in.

"Call me Harry," he said to Dr. Middleton. Harry had gotten sufficiently familiar with the good doctor to dispense with formalities. "I don't really mind Rachel sitting in on these sessions," Harry explained. "I don't feel that I have anything in my past which I would want to hide from her. After all, she is taking care of me day and night, so perhaps if Rachel were fully aware of the progress which I make in these sessions, it might make her job easier."

If the patient himself was rather insistent that his nurse joined them, Dr. Middleton could not really object, could he?

They continued with the word association exercises which they began whilst Harry was still in hospital. Dr. Middleton would throw certain words or phrases at Harry and asked for his response, as in _what is the first thing that comes to your mind when I say this_? Based on Harry's responses, they would then explore certain comments further, and in time, a more detailed picture would emerge concerning various aspects of Harry's past life.

In earlier sessions, Dr. Middleton tried hypno-therapy on Harry but it did not work. Harry had been a spook for too long to be placed under hypnosis that easily. In any case, Harry had been involved in so many ops during his career that it was often difficult to separate fact from fiction. It was a very time consuming process, sifting through the many layers of Harry's memories.

After these sessions, Harry invariably felt a little worn out and liked to sit in the garden by himself whilst he gathered his thoughts. Ruth usually offered Dr. Middleton coffee in the kitchen. He did not refuse, not once.

Ruth knew that it was dangerous to have these coffee sessions with Dr. Middleton. It was not as if she was looking to start anything with this handsome doctor. But Ruth was generally a friendly person, and she felt that as long as she was careful not to give the wrong signals, there was no harm done in just having a coffee.

Ruth found the chats with Dr. Middleton quite pleasant. She knew, from participating in these sessions that Harry was making progress in recovering his memory, yet, he has not touched on anything remotely connected to her. She accepted that it was just one of those cruel hands dealt by fate. Sometimes, John would say something amusing and that would be the few times that Ruth would laugh out loud. John Middleton noticed that the kitchen seemed brighter every time Rachel smiled or laughed.

From where Harry was sitting in the garden, he could hear laughter coming out of the kitchen from time to time. He did not fail to notice that his psychiatrist's coffee sessions with his private nurse were getting longer and longer.

_Why is he still here and what does he want with my nurse? She shouldn't be consorting with someone like him, she should be spending time with …_

Where was he going with this thought? Rachel was already living under the same roof as him, why did he have this feeling that he wanted more attention from her?

He also noticed that whenever Rachel left the house to run errands, he would start to have some sort of panic attack. _Where is she going and what if she does not come back? Why is she taking so long? _He then acquired the habit of staying by the window to stare at the driveway until he either spied her walking back, or was being driven back by one of the agents. Then he would sprint for his study and pretend that nothing was wrong. On occasion, Rachel would invite Harry to come along on one of these trips, as long as she was sure that they were not going to carry home anything heavy. Harry was very happy to accompany her. He was starting to feel like a child who did not want to be left alone by his nanny.

_Should I say something to Rachel about her coffee sessions with Dr. Middleton? I don't have the right to. She works hard enough as it is, so she is entitled to some light relief, even if it is just limited to bantering with my psychiatrist. How come they never invite me to one of these sessions?_

Harry always felt a tremendous sense of relief when Dr. Middleton finally left and Rachel fetched him from the garden for lunch. _Good, I now have her back to myself. She's only a nurse, why do I feel so possessive? If she resigned, the agency could always send someone else to take her place. Oh God. I hadn't thought of that. She might resign and leave me. No, I cannot let her do that. I need her. I w-a-n-t her. _That thought hit Harry like a whack on the head. _No I don't, isn't it somebody else that I want?_ Invariably, the fog would rise in his brain at this point and he could never retrieve an image of this person who meant so much to him and who prevented him from making advances to Rachel.

Sometimes, Harry would become incredibly depressed. He did not seem to have any family members. No one had come to visit. Harry wondered whether he was married. He decided that if he had been married before, he was no longer married now, otherwise the wife and kids would have made an appearance by now. It was quite pathetic really. So far, Rachel was the only one who cared about his wellbeing, but then again, she was probably just doing what she had been paid to do. _Was that why I am attracted to her? _ _What is wrong with me_?

He remembered that the thought of marriage brought up a disagreeable feeling. In time, he recalled the fights with, what was her name, yes, Jane, his ex-wife. At first it was just recalling a cross word here and there, followed by memories of more detailed incidents and arguments. In turn, this led to a recall of incidents associated with his professional life. The two sides were related. Too much devotion to his job cost him his marriage. That much was clear to Harry.

Slowly but surely, Harry remembered the most important thing about himself : he had been a spy most of his adult life.

When they were still at the hospital, Ruth did try to get hold of Harry's daughter, Catherine, so that she could come for a visit. Ruth's message to Catherine was that if possible, she should bring her mother and her brother. These people were an important part of Harry's life, and in the case of Catherine, still was an important part. Maybe a visit with them would jog Harry's memory regarding that period of his life. It turned out that Catherine was terribly hard to get hold of. Her agent thought that she was filming somewhere in the Middle East but failed to locate her. Messages had been left for Catherine in all her usual haunts. She never came.

Harry had a ferocious appetite for news and current affairs programmes. In the morning, he would go through all of the morning newspapers before Dr. Middleton arrived. In the evenings, he was allowed to watch television. It was not unusual for Harry to mow through all of the BBC, CNN, Bloomberg and any other available news channel in one sitting.

One night, there was an item in one of the current affairs talk shows about the recent dismissal of a member of the Royal Household protection unit. The man in question was of Middle Eastern original and a Muslim. The debate was over whether or not it was a racist and/or discriminatory thing to have done, or whether the world had now given in to political correctness in all things so that the true merits of any particular set of circumstances were often overlooked.

"Whoever made the decision to dismiss this poor man ought to be shot! It was a very incendiary move."

It was not unusual for Harry to comment out loud in response to what was shown on the television screen. Ruth sometimes let him rant on a bit. When she did not agree with his point of view, she would not hesitate to speak her mind and start a little debate with Harry.

"In the current climate, the authorities must be seen to be doing everything they can to minimize trouble." Ruth thought that Harry was being a little unreasonable "I agree that perhaps they could have handled it with a great deal more sensitivity, or in a low key manner. But to keep that man on after they found out that he frequented a mosque which also had known terrorist connections would be simply irresponsible."

"Maybe they should have been more careful at the vetting stage. If they never took him on in the first place, they would not have this problem now." Harry, as usual, was thinking with his managerial hat on.

"No, if that man could demonstrate that he had all the necessary skills and still they did not take him on the team, he could have sued for discrimination. Whichever way you look at it, they were caught between a rock and a hard place once this man joined the Service." Ruth, ever the diplomat.

Harry often wondered why his nurse seemed to know more about the Service than he did. Was she some sort of agent working undercover? If that was the case, she could not be happy about having to do actual nursing work, which in the early days could be messy at times.

More recently, Harry followed avidly reports on the Princess Diana inquest. He would read all the newspaper reports and tuned into any show which discussed progress (or lack thereof) made at the inquest.

"Does the public really think that the Secret Service would be that sloppy and devise a plan to kill somebody which can be so easily picked apart by others? Come on, give the Service some credit." Harry could not believe that after all these years, the Government was still willing to waste taxpayer money on this subject.

"Princess Diana _was_ very popular. It was hard for people to let go," Ruth reasoned. "The accident was something straight out of a spy novel, it was probably better than anything that a writer could think of."

"But wasting all this time and money to maul over the whys and wherefores. This is ridiculous. The Service is never praised for getting something right, but it is always getting blamed when things go wrong. Its just not fair."

"I guess it comes with the territory. Sometimes it is easier for people to have a concrete target to lay the blame, rather than accept that it was just one of those things, being at the wrong place at the wrong time." Ruth wondered whether Harry remembered the whole Angela Wells incident. "You know, some people use this inquest as a way of getting to the Royal Family, for their own reasons," Ruth suggested.

Harry gave that comment some thought. There were images flashing through his mind, images of a blond woman who was not Princess Diana, someone he was unsure whether he liked or not. Then there were images of Adam getting shot. He turned quiet. Ruth decided to let him be with this thoughts. All part of the healing process.

Harry was happy to have these discussions with Rachel in the evenings. He enjoyed pitting wits with her and seeing how far he could wind her up over any topic. He did not have any one else to talk to.

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	7. Chapter 7

**Same Disclaimer as before**

Chapter 7

Back to the Grid

Four months after Harry was shot, Adam felt that it was high time he had a discussion with Dr Middleton about Harry's condition. After a long, heated session, Adam managed to convince him that it would do Harry a world of good to let him go back to the Grid for a visit. After all, Harry used to spend nearly all of his waking hours on the Grid. A visit would surely help jog his memory, more than any sessions with a psychiatrist.

Harry was very excited about his trip back to his office. When he went through the pods, he immediately felt that everything was familiar yet not the same. He exchanged pleasantries with everyone on the Grid. By now, he could almost recall everyone's name without prompting. He was even able to recall some of the ops which his officers were on and he asked about those. Some were still ongoing, others have been completed, satisfactorily or not, as the case may be.

Everyone was very happy to see their boss back in the saddle. Harry mentioned that even though he had not been given the all clear yet to join them for drinks at the George, he authorized Adam to take everyone out, at an appropriate time, and put it all on his tab.

Harry was very glad to see Connie. She was one of his oldest friends and allies.

"I was very worried about you, you know, but since you were in such good hands, I did not feel obligated to visit you. I hope you are not offended." Connie was pleased at the recovery which her old friend had made.

"Not in the slightest. My private nurse does keep me on a very tight leash. Watches over me like a hawk. I'm surprised that she did not insist on coming along with me today." As soon as Harry said this, he realized that for the first time since he met Rachel in the hospital, she was not there by his side.

Harry did not know that Dr. Middleton had given specific instructions that Rachel should not accompany Harry back to the Grid.

In due course, Harry made his way to his office. He knew where his office was and went to it without directions from Adam or Ros. Once he entered his room, more memories came flooding back and he felt more and more sure of himself. He looked at the things on his desk. Adam had been using his office during his absence but made an effort to tidy up all the paperwork strewn all over the office as soon as he heard that Harry was on his way in. Harry touched his computer, and fondled his favourite writing instruments.

The moment he sat in his chair, Harry looked up instinctively across the Grid to where Ruth used to sit. He was looking for someone, though he was not entirely sure who he was looking for since that was Connie's workstation now. Suddenly, an image popped into his head. It was Rachel, his private nurse. For a moment, Harry was confused. Why would he think of Rachel at this time and not, wait, who should he be thinking of? Why did it feel so right to see Rachel in his mind's eye? Was it simply because he felt a little lost without his nurse, or was it because …

Malcolm saw what was going through Harry's mind. He opened his mouth to say something but caught sight of the look that Adam gave him. Dr. Middleton had given firm instructions that Adam and his colleagues were not to volunteer any information about Harry's past life to him. They should only give information if Harry asked and then only in small doses, as a sort of nudge or encouragement to Harry's brain to recover more memories.

Malcolm was not at all sure whether this was the right way to go about it, but then again, he was a gadgets expert and could not claim any expertise in the field of psychiatry or psychology. He felt anxious for Harry's sake and sad for Ruth's sake, but he did not say anything.

During the long drive back to the safe house, Harry turned over the events in his mind. He was now certain that he did have strong feelings for someone who worked on the Grid, someone who sat in that corner he could not take his eyes off. He was also relatively certain that that person was no longer there. Gradually, like mist being burnt off by the noonday sun, the name "Ruth" emerged and the memories came flooding back. That cold October day by the dockside, the bittersweet farewell, and the pain he had been carrying around since then. But then, if Ruth had already left, why did he keep thinking of Rachel, his private nurse, whenever he thought of Ruth?

_Unless, unless … . No, it could not be. If Ruth was back, how did she do it without being picked up by the authorities? She was supposed to be dead. Who helped Ruth come home? Who would want to do that, besides himself, of course?_

He then remembered the telephone conversation he had with Malcolm that day he was shot, when Malcolm told him that someone was waiting to see him on the Grid. _What was it Malcolm had said? "Someone you will be delighted to see again."_ He had no idea who Malcolm was referring to at the time but felt compelled to get back to his office as soon as possible. That was why he was in such a hurry and decided to use the front entrance instead of the underground entrance.

Harry needed answers to a lot of questions. If Ruth somehow found a way to get her old life back, why the charade as a private nurse? _Well, for one thing, you lost your memory, you idiot. You might not have believed what she told you, even if she was telling you the truth. For another, maybe she needed a cover to get near you in the hospital, an excuse to take over nursing duties._

Harry remembered that this would not be the first time that Ruth fibbed about her relationship with Harry in order to get to him in a hospital. _Well, at least she didn't claim to be my wife this time. Mores the pity._

As soon as they left the hospital and moved to the safe house, why didn't Ruth break cover? Why keep up the pretence? Most importantly, if Ruth had been willing to play nurse for the last few months, did she do that out of love, friendship or just a sense of duty?

Harry decided that he needed more information about this whole situation. Until he became fully aware of what happened, he was not going to confront Ruth about the charade.

On his next visit to the Grid, which was three days later, Harry asked Malcolm for a private chat in the conference room.

The first thing he said to Malcolm was, "Tell me about Ruth."

Malcolm was relieved when he heard this. Finally he could speak freely about Ruth. Although carrying around secrets was part of the life of a spook, Malcolm was not happy at all about carrying Harry's and Ruth's secrets. _Why do these two keep circling each other? Can they not see that they belong with each other? _Very quickly, he explained to Harry the circumstances under which Ruth was resurrected and Jools Siviter's involvement in all this.

Harry's eyes narrowed when he heard the name Jools Siviter. He now remembered having heard about his return to the Service from his exile in Washington. Harry was surprised but not annoyed, at the time, that the Home Office did not give him the chance to clean up the Service, but gave the job to Jools Siviter instead. After giving the matter more thought, he agreed with the strategy to bring in someone who was known to the Service but also someone who was sufficiently distant from all the brouhaha to be able to do a more impartial job of cleaning house.

"I'm sorry I did not discuss this matter with you, Harry. I hope you understand the need for secrecy." By now, Malcolm was so happy that he could speak freely about Ruth that he really was not worried whether Harry was going to explode and threaten him with a posting to some god forsaken land.

"That's OK, Malcolm, I understand, please don't worry about it. Thank you for making all the arrangements for Ruth's return." Then Harry had another thought. "Malcolm, please don't tell anyone, Adam and the others I mean, and Ruth as well, that we have had this discussion. Can you hold on to this for just a little bit longer? There are a couple of things I still have to sort out before … "

Harry did not elaborate on what it was that he had to sort out. Malcolm agreed. He had expected Harry to react differently to what he had just told him – instead of elation, Harry now had a look of general apprehension in his eyes. Malcolm asked himself : _Could I have been wrong after all this time, did Harry not want Ruth back in his life after all?_

They were then joined by Adam who gave his boss an update on his shooters. Harry did not want to bring in the rest of his team. They were busy with a number of on-going ops and Harry did not feel the need to interrupt their work.

"Shortly after you were shot, the local police fished a body out of the Thames with a bullet hole to his head," Adam began in his usual businesslike manner. He also started to click on the projector so that a series of images began appearing on the widescreen TV on the wall.

"The victim was a Chinese man in his mid 30s. Likely to be an illegal immigrant. Scotland Yard was not able to identify him. However, the bullet which they took out of his head had the same markings as the bullets which we collected after you were shot, so we knew that he had something to do with your attempted assassination. Then we caught a break when Immigration raided a Chinese restaurant in Chinatown last week. Not only were they able to round up a large number of illegal Chinese immigrants in the basement of the restaurant, they also recovered a small quantity of arms, amongst which was the gun which killed our John Doe and which was used on you."

"I never knew that the Chinese disliked me so much?" Harry could not believe what he was being told.

"After intensive questioning, one of the Chinese men who was arrested confessed to the whole plot to assassinate you, but he wouldn't give up the name of the person who employed him. You see, John Doe was his cousin who had only recently arrived in this country via a container. His name was Han Ming. Han was terribly home sick and wanted to raise a lot of money in a short time in order to pay the snakeheads to bring his wife and son out of China to England. Han was the shooter whilst his two cousins were in charge of surveillance. All of them were ex-PLA, People's Liberation Army, so they should be able to handle firearms. Unfortunately for Han but fortunately for you, the gun he was given on the day of the shooting was not a model he was familiar with. That was why he missed."

Harry gave thanks, silently, and wondered that if he was spared on this occasion, what other surprises might life have in store for him.

"Apparently, Han was not aware that if you were not dead, then his cousins would not be paid the final installment of the agreed fee. When he found out, he went ballistic because he was counting on being able to reunite with his family in the near future. Now he didn't have enough to pay the snakeheads."

Harry remembered seeing the agents posted outside his room when he was still in hospital.

"Han thought that his cousins were not on the level with him, trying to do him out of his share," Adam continued. "He did not believe that it was his own fault that they would not be paid the final installment. He was also told that he had to try and finish the job. Han refused as soon as he became aware of who you were, specifically, your job title. Han's experiences in China with the secret service there did not leave him with a nice warm feeling, so there was no way in the world he was going to finish the job. They argued, shots were fired and the next thing you know, Han ended up in the Thames."

"Why wouldn't the remaining two give up the name of the person who hired them?" Harry was most curious to know who employed this hit team.

"They said that it was a very powerful gwei-lo - 'foreign devil', with some very powerful friends. They were told that if they ever disclosed the identity of the employer, their family members back in mainland China would not be safe. They wouldn't accept any deals which we offered them." Adam spared Harry the details of what interrogation tactics they had to use before they were able to extract the information which he just outlined.

"That is unfortunate. Who did I piss off so badly that they would want me killed? I know that a lot of people in and out of government dislike me intensely for a variety of reasons, but to order a hit, that's got to be personal. What are we going to do next?" Harry debated whether he should raise the possibility that Ruth's return had something to do with this whole sordid affair, but decided not to since he was still not supposed to know the real identity of Rachel.

"Jools is aware of all these developments. In fact, he just summoned me to his club for a drink. I doubt very much that it's the pleasure of my company which Jools craves, so my guess is he has some information for us."

"Be careful, Adam. Jools Siviter always has more than one plate spinning in the air. Trying to figure all the different agendas he's got going at any time is more difficult that navigating through a maze. Try and make sure you worm everything out of him. Oh, and watch your alcohol intake when you are around Jools. The man has hollow legs." Harry felt physically ill when he remembered the last time he had a drinking contest with Jools.

"I can look after myself, don't worry Harry. You just concentrate on getting better. We need you back here."

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	8. Chapter 8

**Same Disclaimer as before**

Chapter 8

Of Satellites and Horses

When Adam was shown to the corner of Jools's club where he was sitting, he noticed that Jools appeared to be in conversation with a Chinese gentleman. As soon as the Chinese saw Adam come through the doorway, he got up to leave. He gave Adam a nod on his way out.

Adam recognized the man as Lester Huang from the Chinese embassy. His official title was Cultural Attaché, grade 2, but he was really one of the more senior members of the Chinese Secret Service stationed in London. Adam also noticed that as usual when Jools held court at his club, no one else was permitted to sit in the same room.

Adam accepted a drink from Jools.

"Did you have a pleasant little get together with Mr. Huang?"

"Ah, not just a pretty face, I see. So you recognized my gentleman caller?"

"I wouldn't be good at my job if I didn't know him. Everything alright?" It seemed to Adam that he was suddenly having a lot of dealings with the Chinese in London these past few weeks. The fact that Jools had just spent the afternoon chatting to a senior Chinese spook could not be coincidental.

"Lester and I go back a long way. We met back in Cambridge, not bosom buddies, you know, just recognizing each other by sight. When I was at Cambridge, there were not many Chinese students there, so you tend to notice foreign faces lurking around. I think that he was a few years behind me."

Adam did not come to chew the fat with Jools Siviter over his university days. He wondered how he could break Jools' reverie and get him back on track.

"Do you know, there was a time when I almost ended up being recruited to join the police force in Hong Kong? Luckily, a very nice man from MI6 talked me out of it at the last minute and the rest, as they say, is history. Hong Kong would have been an awful place to work in, all that heat and humidity. I'm a cold weather man myself."

"Does Mr. Huang have anything to do with our investigation into who ordered the hit on Harry?" Adam was not really interested in hearing Jools Siviter's life history or his preference for the environment in which he lived.

"Tsk, tsk. Patience my boy. Daddy was just getting to the juicy part of this story. When it became clear that there was a Chinese connection to this whole debacle, I made some enquiries and by happy coincidence, my friend Lester was able to give me some information." Jools sounded very pleased with himself. "You see, whoever ordered the hit had to have a source of income to fund this little extravagance. There are a number of ways to earn that income," Jools settled in for a long story. He noticed that he now had Adam's interest.

"For some time now, the Chinese have been anxious to get their hands on some US made communications satellites. When you spend as long in Washington as I have, you get to hear about these things. The last lot they purchased under the Clinton Administration are coming to the end of their useful lifespan. The Chinese have always maintained that they use these satellites for civilian purposes, you know, beaming the latest American TV shows into homes covered by a satellite's footprint. But since Washington remains firmly of the view that these satellites can be easily converted for use by the military, for example for spying purposes, Bush wouldn't sign the export licence for the newer satellites."

"Harry is not mixed up in the sale of satellites."

"If you interrupt again, I won't finish the story. You see, there are a small group of people who are all too happy to oblige the Chinese. By this I mean that they would be happy to front companies formed in countries which are friendly to the US. These companies would then be able to secure the necessary export licences for US satellites. As always in the case of these hi-tech gizmos, its always the software that matters, not really the hardware. Once the export licence is issued, the owners can get their hands on the source codes for the software which operates the satellite."

"The French also makes satellites. Why can't the Chinese buy from the French?"

"Not all software are created equal, apparently. Why would you buy a Nokia mobile phone in preference to an Alcatel phone?" Jools thought that Adam ought to know the difference. "Steve Jobs has always said that iPod sales are driven by the user friendliness of the iTunes software rather than the design of these metal cases."

At the mention of iPods, an image arose in Adam's mind of Jools Sivitor walking along the Embankment, complete with iPod and earbud headphones, bopping along to his favourite Wagner piece and playing air conductor at the same time. Adam had to take a quick gulp of his drink in order to stifle the laughter which was threatening to erupt from him.

"I managed to convince Lester to let me know the names of people who have recently offered help to the Chinese in terms of buying satellites. With that list, I have a pretty good idea who ordered the hit on Harry."

"Why would the Chinese be prepared to divulge that information?"

"What is our stock in trade, dear boy? Information, intelligence. We have something the Chinese want and they want a trade. You're not really up with current affairs, are you?"

"Of course I am, that's part of my job." Adam wondered why his abilities were being questioned yet again.

"Then you must know that the Equestrian events for the 2008 Olympics are to be held in Hong Kong, not Beijing where most of the other events will be held."

"Yes, I read something about this, but haven't been able to figure out why. I only have a limited interest in horses. How did we go from satellites to horses?" _Where is this conversation going? He better not be leading me up the garden path._

"Horse racing is big business in Hong Kong. On any race day, the aggregate amount bet on the tote board is just a few pennies shy of the lowest amount traded on the local stock exchange. They have two superb racecourses and one of the best teams of vets in the world that specializes in horses. It was a no brainer for the Equestrian events to be held in Hong Kong rather than Beijing. I hear that they have constructed new facilities to accommodate the Equestrian events."

"Yes, I know all about horse racing in Hong Kong but …" Adam was starting to become annoyed again. He would be very cross if he found out that Jools Siviter was leading him on a wild goose, or make that wild horse, chase.

"The Hong Kong police uncovered a plot last year to blow up one of the race tracks in Hong Kong. No harm was done because they apprehended the suspects before they were able to lay down the explosives, but they uncovered maps and timetables etc. With all the recent protests about staging the Olympics in China and the problems with Tibet, the Chinese have every reason to expect trouble at all of the Olympic venues. They think that the plot they uncovered last year was just a dress rehearsal for what the troublemakers might want to do when the Equestrian events are held this August."

"So, that's why the Chinese Secret Service needs our help."

"Now you've got it. They are reaching out to their counterparts in a number of countries, including us. The British contingent for the Equestrian events is one of the largest teams which will be present. It would not be difficult for someone to slip in, posing as a member of the team. I hear that our team is threatening to bring its own fresh water supply to Hong Kong, you know, to make sure that the horses won't become ill from drinking the local water."

"You can't be serious!"

"Well, I'm told that Cirque du Soleil never leaves home without it, their own fresh water supply, I mean. Imagine how easy it is to slip in something offensive in that kind of baggage. My friend Lester claims that he has evidence that the British contingent is being infiltrated as we speak."

"So you offered MI6 help."

"Yes, and your help, in exchange for information about Harry's little problem, amongst other things. I really don't give a toss if any one were to rain on the Chinese's parade where the Olympics are concerned," Jools snorted. "But you know how this country feels about horses. If the British Equestrian team were implicated in this, the brown stuff is going to hit the fan faster than you can say 'giddy-up'. So, you and your little team should do some digging around and let Six know if you have any useful tidbits to pass to the Chinese. I'll get one of the Six boys to liaise with you." Jools watched as Adam's shoulders sagged at the thought of more work.

"The only name on the list which Lester gave me who had anything to do with Harry is, surprise, surprise, Oliver Mace," Jools went on. "I never knew that that man could hold a grudge for so long, over nothing."

"So it was him." Adam was not really surprised by this revelation. When he agreed to go along with the bring Ruth back campaign, he had rather assumed that Jools had squared things away where Mace was concerned.

"Lester has now been persuaded that it is not really a good idea for the Chinese to be doing business with dear Ollie. So there goes the fat little commission which Ollie was expecting."

"You really think that that's enough to stop him and his friends from trying …" Adam remained unconvinced.

"Ollie now knows that I know, about the hit I mean, and he knows what I can do with that information. I have managed to let slip this information amongst Ollie's other contacts and connections. I'd expect that in future, he's persona non grata as far as a lot of people are concerned. Without funding or income, and without important contacts in Whitehall, little Ollie will have to go back to some of his more unsavoury contacts for future projects. As we all know, Mace has burnt a few bridges in various parts of the world and my guess is that many of his "friends" are unlikely to come to his aid in future. It should only be a matter of time before one of the groups he had double-crossed in the past would catch up with him and settle a few scores."

"So you think that the matter is now closed?"

"I would say do, don't you agree? We've taken it as far as we can. Harry is still alive and thriving, and we've spanked Mace on the bottom. There's really very little else we can do."

"I'll report to Harry as soon as possible."

"Yes, please do, and please give him my regards. I hear that he is receiving wonderful care from that little private nurse of his," Jools said with a loud chuckle. "Given all that has happened these last few months, I don't think he would mind if I refrained from visiting him just now, do you?"

"I'm sure Harry does not mind in the slightest. I will send him your regards."

Adam was not sure how to assess the information he was just given. He wanted to discuss this with Harry as soon as possible. Although Jools was now back, Adam had no idea what was his job title. He knew that Jools had a brief from the Home Office to clean up the various sections of the Service and to rebuild confidence after Cotterdam and Yalta etc., but did he have a proper portfolio? If he was wrong once before about Oliver Mace wanting to take revenge against Harry, could he be wrong again? Adam felt that the only way to be certain was to kill Mace before he was minded to strike again, but would Harry go to those lengths?

As for digging around the British Equestrian team, Adam thought that either Jo or Ros should brush up on their horse riding skills. It might just be necessary to send one of them to Hong Kong to work undercover. He was not sure whether this suggestion would be well received back on the Grid.

After Adam left, Jools poured himself another drink. He did not think that it was relevant to elaborate on how Oliver Mace was able to find out so quickly about Jools's plans to bring Ruth home. Jools discovered something about that nice young man, Jeremy, he had commandeered to help with his paperwork. Jools had overlooked one small detail in Jeremy's background check. Jeremy was good friends, _very good friends,_ with another agent named Ronald. Oliver Mace was Ronald's godfather. Jools assumed that as soon as Jeremy noticed the Ruth Evershed file amongst the files to be processed, calls were made and information passed over. Given the short time available, the Chinese hit team was the only one Mace could assemble. If they had more time, the team which Mace bought might have been able to do a more professional job.

Jools had obviously underestimated the extent of Oliver Mace's hatred of Harry. _I guess if you went so far as to cut a man's arm with a piece of broken glass, in full view of other people in the dining room at Mace's club, the enormous loss of face would stay with you for a long, long time. _Jools now knew exactly how Mace felt :_ If you used a supposedly dead woman to bring me down, let me show you how it feels to be really dead._ Well, that was a very bad move on Mace's part. It was one thing to be out of Government but still calling in favours granted by old contacts from time to time, it was entirely another matter to be part of a failed plot to order the cold blooded murder of a senior member of the Secret Service over a personal grudge.

Jools also failed to mention to Adam that his watchers had recently reported numerous sightings of Oliver Mace at his solicitors' and stockbrokers' offices. Jools's guess was that Mace was liquidating his assets with a view to decamping from Britain altogether. From this point onwards, Mace would find that his sphere of influence, even in the commercial world, would have significantly diminished. It was probably best for all concerned if Mace were to pitch tent abroad.

Jools had no doubt that Harry would figure out his little miscalculation where Mace was concerned. Harry would now be less inclined to be one of his new best friends, and certainly the size of the favour which he could exact from Harry would diminish considerably. _What is it about this Evershed woman that seems to attract murder and mayhem in her wake?_ Jools asked himself, not for the first time, _whatever possessed me to take an interest in her case in the first place?_ Well, Jools always said that there is no fool like an old, sentimental fool. He promised himself, there and then, that he would never allow himself to be put in that position, as far as affairs of the heart were concerned. Not that Jools Siviter had a heart.

**All reviews will be gratefully received.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Same Disclaimer as before**

Chapter 9

Should I stay or should I go?

As soon as Harry came onto the Grid again a couple of days after Adam met with Jools Siviter, Adam reported to him what he had been told by Jools. The two of them were alone in Harry's office.

"Harry, what do you want to do about Oliver Mace?"

"Nothing. I cannot stop him, or any of my other enemies for that matter, from coming after me, if they were hell bent on doing so. I don't want to stoop to his level and order him killed. We cannot go through life this way; otherwise there would be no end to the number of people we want eliminated. We live in a civilized society, we're better than that. I agree with Jools's assessment that any threat which Mace might pose has been neutralized. I will just have to be more careful in future."

Adam could see some logic in what Harry said.

"And Adam, please do me a favour and keep this information between us. It is not usually my style to keep anything from members of my team, but as far as Section D is concerned, the official story should be that I had somehow upset some Chinese gangs and that led to my being shot."

"But Jools has already spread this information in an attempt to discredit Mace. People will find out." Adam was a little puzzled as to the reason for all this secrecy.

"Jools may have his own reasons for wanting to leak information about the Mace connection. I cannot stop him from doing that. But I have my reasons. You see Adam, as soon as people know about Mace's plot to kill me, those who know about my history with Mace, especially people here on the Grid, will inevitably link this to Ruth's return. People will brand her as the woman who nearly got Harry Pearce killed."

At the mention of Ruth, Adam opened his mouth to speak but Harry went on.

"Yes, I know about Ruth. Given that there remains a possibility that she will come back to work for the Service, I do not want people to gossip about her over this incident. As long as I am head of Section D, I will not have her talked about in that way. She deserves better treatment than that."

"I guess you're right, Harry, I hadn't thought about that." Adam was relieved that Harry now knew that Ruth was back. It did not matter to Adam how or when Harry found out about this. Adam thought that it was a little impractical to assume that people would not gossip simply because the Head of the Section had decreed that they should not do so, but he would do his best to discourage any such gossip.

"I will deal with Ruth in my own way. I just need time to figure out a few things. So please don't tell Ruth about your conversation with Jools. I will explain everything to her, all in good time."

"Alright Harry, I won't say a word."

"Now, please bring in the others. I believe you have a few new ops to plan. Given that I am not back on a full time basis yet, I will let you take the lead on these and just sit in as an observer."

* * *

After Harry came home from his visits to the Grid, he spent a lot of time alone, thinking. Ruth noticed this. Sometimes he would look at Ruth in a funny way and looked away as soon as he was caught doing so. Mostly, he kept to himself, either in his study, or he would pace in the small backyard.

_This is the first that he has taken to pacing again. Did anything happen after he returned to the Grid? What's troubling him now? Is he worried that he might be put out to pasture sooner than originally planned? After all, he did sustain some very serious injuries and has been dealing with memory loss; inevitably, the powers that be will think that maybe he is not up to the job anymore. I must call Malcolm to see if he knows anything._

Malcolm told her that other than recalling a lot of things which were work related, nothing else happened. Ruth thought that Malcolm sounded a little evasive. _Perhaps he is in the middle of something else and cannot talk. I really should not bother him about my personal problems._ Still, Ruth was worried and it showed.

A few days after Harry came back from his first visit to the Grid, John noticed that the sadness in Rachel's eyes was stronger than usual. When he found himself having coffee with Rachel in the kitchen again, he decided to speak his mind.

"As a psychiatrist, I notice a lot of things about people. I am about to make some comments, comments about you and Harry. If you think that its none of my business, Rachel, please tell me to shut up. But you should hear me out."

"I'm intrigued, John. Are you about to psychoanalyze me?"

"Well, I can't help but notice that your devotion to your patient goes above and beyond the call of duty."

"I try my best. I always believe that if it's a job worth doing, its worth doing well."

"But you have feelings for the patient that goes beyond the professional level and straight into the realm of the personal."

Ruth started to blush. What was this man trying to say? Should she tell him to stop right now?

"You have a personal interest in Harry, don't you? Except for love, there is no other motivation in the world for what you have been doing for him. I would even venture to say that your affections have not been reciprocated. Am I right?"

"Well, I umm, you might be … eh .. how can you …" As usual, Ruth stuttered a bit when she became nervous. She wanted to tell him that no, he was wrong, Harry did try to start a relationship with her, all those years ago, but she was the one who stopped him.

"Any first year psychology student can see through that. Without belittling whatever feelings you may have for Harry, have you considered the consequences? I mean, what if he cannot remember you, ever?"

"There is always that possibility," Ruth conceded, after considering that statement for a moment. "After all, we did not have that long a history. If it should come to that, I will just have to accept reality, won't I? I mean, its not as if I can do anything about it, given what you have said so far about not doing anything active to prompt his memory."

Ruth was not usually comfortable discussing her private life with someone she did not know well. But John Middleton was not just any one. He was an experienced psychiatrist, and Ruth thought that talking to him might help her deal with some of her own demons.

"It seems a shame that someone like you would stake all of your emotions on a person who might not be able to return your affections, not in the way you want anyway."

"Maybe I'm not looking for my feelings to be reciprocated. Right now, I just want to be with him, help him get better."

"You're doing a damn fine job there. But at some stage, you have to start thinking more for yourself. You know, sometimes if you take off the blinkers and look around you, you will see that there is a whole wide world out there, with many other possibilities."

Ruth gave him a quizzical look. John thought that he was going to lose it. _That look, those eyes._

"John, why can't I just come out and tell him who I really am? The reason for keeping up a charade no longer exists, especially now that you have seen through it as well."

"That would not be advisable. If Harry still has some memory of your past together but he has no specific recollection of you in your former guise, he might end up resenting you for foisting this revelation on him."

"How can that be?" Ruth could not see the logic in what she had just been told.

"Harry is an honourable man," John Middleton began, "and when you tell him your real identity, he will accept what you say at face value. He might even feel obligated to reciprocate your affections. But he would be doing this to you as Rachel, not you as … I don't even know your real name."

Ruth remained silent. This conversation was not going the way she liked and she was not going to disclose her real identity to John, not now, not under these circumstances.

"As long as Harry is not sure about what he has been told, that it did not come from some deep recess of his mind, there will always be doubt on his part." John Middleton waited for a moment for this statement to take effect before going further. "I have seen that kind of doubt turn into resentment over time. For Harry, there will always be that nagging feeling that perhaps he should be with someone else. That's a huge risk there which I would not advise you to take. No, Harry has to recover his memories of you all by himself."

The last thing Ruth wanted was for Harry to resent her, for whatever reason, so she was very easily sold on this piece of advice.

"There are other possibilities for happiness, you know. You should get yourself out of this house and take a good look at the rest of the world."

"I'm not sure I can handle that at the moment, as long as Harry still needs me, even if its just as his nurse."

"Look, he is recovering from his wounds nicely. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you had the occasional night off. How about I take you to dinner somewhere nice, you know, help you take the edge off things for a couple of hours? Just a dinner between friends, nothing else."

Ruth was very uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Harry alone, even for a couple of hours at night. She was not in a mood to explore other possible romantic liaisons, at least not until she knew for certain that it was completely over between her and Harry. She did not, for one moment, believe the "just dinner between friends" line.

"That's awfully nice of you to offer, thank you. Maybe we ought to wait a few more weeks before making plans of that sort. Harry still has the occasional nightmare," Ruth lied. Harry had ceased to have nightmares for some time now. "He refuses to take any sleeping pills. I wouldn't want anything to happen to him when I took time off."

John Middleton knew better than to press the issue. He was disappointed that he has failed, yet again, to take Rachel out. _Not to worry, though, I will just have to be tenacious and wait for the next opportunity._

"Well, if ever you change your mind, you know where to find me."  


* * *

A few days after Harry's third visit to the Grid, Dr. Middleton came for another one of his consultations but for once, Harry asked Rachel to give him some private time with the psychiatrist. Standing outside the door, Ruth felt excluded, unwanted and perplexed. _I know both the life and medical histories of that man intimately by now_, Ruth thought, _what is it that I am not permitted to know by this stage?_ Did Harry develop some new symptoms? He had not mentioned anything to her. Her recent daily readings of his body functions had been normal. There was nothing wrong with either the heart rate or blood pressure. His lungs sounded wonderfully clear. Ruth had not noticed anything wrong with him. _What can it be?_

After an hour and a half, which was a longer consultation than usual, Dr. Middleton came out of Harry's study. Ruth saw him to the door. He did not seem to be interested in the usual cup of coffee in the kitchen.

"Well, I guess you won't be seeing much of me from now on. That was my last consultation with Harry. He is making very good progress and he just told me that I need not make any more house calls. I would not be surprised if he is back at work within the month."

"That's good to know. He must be very happy about this," Ruth said brightly, trying to mask her curiosity over what was discussed during that last session.

"Yes, he's a very lucky man." John Middleton had a funny look in his eyes when he said this.

Ruth thought that that last remark was a little strange. _Of course Harry is lucky. He has recovered from some very serious injuries in a rather miraculous fashion._ _Most doctors gloated over their handiwork. This one here seemed to think that it was all down to luck._

"You know, I'm sorry we never had that dinner." John looked at Ruth, searching for some sign of similar regret in Ruth's eyes.

"That was very kind of you to offer, but with the demands of this job, I was never able to take you up on it. Maybe some day in future …" Ruth now felt a little embarrassed over the whole dinner offer.

As if all of this was not confusing enough, Dr. Middleton then reached over and gave Ruth a peck on the cheek. "I hope that you will be very happy …" He placed his name card with contact details in Ruth's hand and then he left.

Ruth stood in the hallway, turning over what just happened.

When she became more and more depressed over the way Harry had been behaving recently, she almost gave in and was on the verge of taking up that offer of dinner. Then she caught the nasty looks which Harry was starting to send her way whenever he saw that the doctor was still in the house. She felt pleased, but at the same time dismayed, that Harry might be jealous of Dr. Middleton. _If you are capable of feeling jealousy, how many more steps do you need to take before you are able to connect all the dots and know me as who I really am?_ In the end, she never took up Dr. Middleton's offer.

Ruth herself felt a little sorry for Dr. Middleton. He looked like a sensitive enough man, and was a highly educated individual who could make her laugh. He would be a great catch for any woman. Just not her, though. For Ruth, its Harry or … ? Whenever Ruth's thoughts came to this subject, she reached an impasse. What if Harry did not remember her? What if Harry remembered her, but his affections had changed? What if Harry actually hated her since her return resulted in him almost losing his life? What if … what if … what if …?

Sometimes Ruth asked herself, _what do you think you're doing?_ She had been given a second chance, to take back the life she used to have, and to stop living the life of a refugee, always glancing over her shoulders to see if an enemy lurked nearby. Any one would be satisfied with just that. Why then did she feel that she was entitled to entertain the romantic notion that she could resume something with Harry? Why was she doing all this? For love, for friendship, for what?

In the week which followed after Dr. Middleton's last session with Harry, things took a turn for the worse as far as Ruth was concerned. She noticed that the surveillance van had been pulled and she no longer had the agents to talk to during her day. Malcolm had told her over the phone that there was no longer a threat on Harry's life. This was not the sort of topic you would discuss over the phone, whether or not you had a secured line. So Ruth did not know how they had come to this conclusion, though she was pleased that the threat had been neutralized.

Harry had now returned to the Grid a few more times. Ruth felt lonely being in the safe house all by herself. It was not that she had nothing to do when Harry was away. For some time now, Malcolm had been sending her some low grade work to keep her occupied, updating databases and that sort of work. Ruth would complete her work, copy the results to an encrypted CD-Rom, and send these back to Malcolm via the pouches which now arrived almost on a daily basis for Harry. Ruth simply felt that apart from her nursing duties, she was no longer a part of Harry's life.

When Harry was at home, Ruth noticed that the phone rang more frequently than before. Harry always took these calls in the study. She knew that the callers were people from the Grid because sometimes she was the one who answered the phone before she passed it to Harry. As soon as the door to the study closed, Ruth had no idea what was being discussed.

This new situation was something Ruth had not previously anticipated. Since she came back, she had been so caught up with Harry getting shot and transforming herself into a nurse that she neglected to consider one aspect – what would life be like if she did not have any involvement in Harry's professional life?

In the beginning, Ruth had Harry all to herself. The man had been in a coma. When he came out of the coma, he needed time to regain mobility and strength so for a time, he was totally dependant on Ruth. These past few months in the safe house was as close to domestic bliss as Ruth could ever imagine if she lived with Harry as a couple. It was like the two of them were cocooned from the rest of the world. Looking after Harry as his nurse was not unlike the days when Ruth was working in Section D as one of Harry's trusted lieutenants.

Before Ruth left on her exile, she knew everything about Harry's work. Except for the short periods when she went home to sleep, shower and change, Ruth and the rest of the team were practically inseparable. They knew everything about each other's lives. Their job was the only thing Ruth and Harry had in common between them. If you took that away, would the remaining elements be sufficient to sustain a long and meaningful relationship?

Now, things were different and Ruth was not entirely sure she liked things this way. _Wasn't this why his first marriage failed,_ Ruth wondered. With his professional life taking over again, Harry would not have time for a private life.

Harry grew more distant. Since he started receiving regular pouches from the Grid, Harry had more or less given up his nightly binge on news programmes. He now had his own private source of news. This meant that there was less opportunity for any discussion between the two of them, in the evenings, on affairs of the world in general, and other matters of interest in particular. They did continue their afternoon walks, but these no longer took place on a daily basis.

At first, Ruth resigned herself to the fact that this change was inevitable and she blamed herself for not having factored in this possibility in the overall scheme of things. Gradually, she became convinced that Harry was being deliberately aloof towards _her_, and this brought on a whole new source of worry for Ruth.

Perhaps Harry did remember her but wanted to exclude her from his life. After all, it was not Harry who had arranged for Ruth to come home. That could only mean one thing. He resented the fact that she came back, without prior consultation with him. Her return endangered his life. Maybe Harry could not forgive her for that. This possibility had been hovering in the back of Ruth's mind since the first time she had this discussion with Adam the day Harry was shot. She always tried to push it back but given the strange behaviour which Harry had been exhibiting lately, Ruth had to let this possibility take a more prominent position in her thoughts.

The feeling that was developing in Ruth's heart was not a pleasant one.  


* * *

Today, Harry was behaving even more strangely than usual. A package came for him from the Grid in the morning, as usual. This was a smaller package than the others which had been arriving with monotonous regularity in the past few weeks. As usual, after the package arrived, Harry retreated into the study with the door closed. He had not said more than 10 words to Ruth all morning.

Ruth knew that her days as a nurse were numbered. With a heavy heart, Ruth decided that she should go upstairs to pack. Any day now, Harry would return to work, and he would no longer require a nurse. She might as well get ready for the inevitable conclusion to this little escapade. When the day of reckoning came, Ruth wanted to be able to get away as quickly as possible and avoid any tearful farewell scenes.

Ruth did not come home with a big wardrobe, and she did not acquire many additional pieces of clothing in the past few months. So all of her clothes and personal effects could fit in one suitcase. It did not take her long to finish packing and tidying up her room.

As for life beyond the safe house, she had been talking to Malcolm over the phone regarding a number of possibilities. If Harry did not remember her, it would be pretty strange for her to turn up on the Grid and announce that she was, in actual fact, an analyst. If Harry did remember her but resented the fact that she was the cause of his assassination attempt, there really was no point in working alongside each other.

Ruth felt like crying but could not. She had shed so many tears for so long over Harry that right now, Ruth did not think that she had any more tears left in her. As far as conclusions go, this might not have been the one she was hoping for, but it was as good a conclusion as any. _Some things are just not meant to be_, Ruth told herself. She took small comfort in the thought that at least she spent the past months helping Harry regain his health. Surely that was her penance for whatever sin she was supposed to have committed where Harry Pearce was concerned.

There was no mistaking the dull ache in her heart.

**All reviews will be gratefully received.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Same Disclaimer as before**

Chapter 10

Goodbye, Nurse Rachel

After she finished packing, Ruth went downstairs to prepare a small, healthy lunch of grilled chicken breast and a salad for herself and Harry. She knocked on the study door and announced that lunch was served. Harry joined her in the kitchen and the two of them ate at the small breakfast table in the kitchen. Ruth tried to make conversation, but Harry would not rise to the bait. He responded politely but refused to give more than monosyllabic answers.

When they finished lunch, Ruth cleared the table and started to load the dishes into the dishwasher. She stood at the sink with her back to Harry, who made his way back to the study. However, he then came back and was standing by the kitchen door. He cleared his throat.

"Rachel, both the doctors and my superiors have given me clearance to return to work, and I … ," he began.

"Oh. That's good," Ruth said, desperately trying to sound calm and nonchalant. "Yes, that's very good news indeed. You must feel very relieved to be able to get back on the horse, so to speak."

"Yes, it does feel good. But what I wanted to say is, when I return to London, to my job, I guess I will not be requiring your services as my private nurse anymore," Harry went on, in a breezy conversational manner.

Ruth's heart missed a beat. Even though she had fully expected to have her services as a nurse terminated, it still felt strange hearing it from Harry. The finality of her situation with Harry never seemed so real. This was the end of the road for Ruth and Harry. Tears started to swell in Ruth's eyes; tears that she did not think she still had. She tried hard not to let Harry know that she was crying, so she continued to stand at the sink with her back to Harry.

"I suppose your agency will find you another placement. I hope your other patients will not be as difficult as me." Was that a tone of jocularity in his voice? Ruth was not sure.

"No, I don't suppose they will be. I'm not sure about another placement though …" It was getting harder and harder to choke back the tears.

"I must thank you for taking such good care of me. You have been working so hard for my sake, you really should take some time off. I have given you so much trouble that I'm sure you must be utterly exhausted." Harry sounded so sincere that Ruth almost believed that that was how all grateful patients sounded like.

"No, I'm alright, really." Any minute now, Ruth was going to lose it completely.

"Do you have any plans as to what you might want to do after this assignment?" Harry sounded concerned.

"I haven't given it much thought." That was the truth. Ruth did not think that the end would come so soon.

"Perhaps you ought to take a holiday and travel a bit. You know, take in the great capitals of Europe, Paris, Madrid, Rome, Berlin. Visit the museums, walking in the streets, sitting in the cafes and do some people watching, instead of having to watch over me." There, this time, Ruth was sure that there was something strange in Harry's tone of voice.

Ruth could not believe what she was hearing. Didn't she have this same conversation with Harry, oh, half a century ago? What was he saying? Ruth was confused. She wanted to turn around to look at Harry, to look into his eyes to find out what was he really trying to say. But she could not because then he would see that tears were now streaming down her face.

"With this sort of trip, you will probably need a companion, don't you think?" Visions of their one and only date were flashing in Ruth's brain.

"What kind of companion did you have in mind?" Ruth asked, trying hard not to let him know that the tears were now coming hard and fast.

"Well, it would have to be somebody whose conversation you enjoyed, yet sometimes understood the need for quiet, somebody with a gentle sense of humour, principled but not foolish …."

Ruth was so lost in her own thoughts that she was not aware that Harry had, by now, left the kitchen door and completely closed the distance between them. When Ruth finally turned around, she found a pair of soft brown eyes looking at her lovingly. He pulled her into a tight embrace and finished what he was saying, "… or naïve."

The floodgates opened and she cried into his polo shirt, leaving a large wet patch. All the worrying, hurt, uncertainty and heartache she had bottled up for the past few years came pouring out of her eyes. Harry was a little surprised by this reaction and kept rubbing her shoulders and her back, whispering in her ear, "There, there, everything's going to be alright."

After what seemed like an eternity, well, to Harry anyway, the sobs started to subside. Harry walked the two of them to the living room where they sat on the couch. Ruth was in serious need of tissues to clean her nose.

"You bastard, you do remember me!" Ruth said in between sobs.

"Of course I remember you." Harry still had her in a tight embrace. _Finally, I am able to hold you_, he thought. "You and everything about you are firmly etched in my memory. I defy any brain washing system in the world to be able to cleanse me of you," said Harry with all the tenderness that he could muster. "In the beginning, I had my doubts. I was developing feelings for my nurse which I felt were inappropriate, because those feelings have already been reserved for you. I was surprised and confused. It didn't feel right."

Harry then told her what happened that first day he went back to the Grid for a short visit.

"That was the first time that I realized who you really might be. Up until that point, I felt that if I took things further with my nurse, I would be cheating on someone else. Only, I could never see clearly, in my mind, who that someone else was, or is. I had to be certain. I needed to make sure that my affections for this other person in my past have not been incorrectly projected onto my private nurse. If the two of you were not one and the same person, then that would be very unfair to both of us, we would both be labouring under false pretences."

Ruth let out more sobs. "You haven't been talking to me very much for the past few weeks. I was worried that even if you did remember me, maybe you resented me or hated the fact that I chose to come back. If I didn't come back, you wouldn't have been shot." Ruth was caught up in more tears.

"Ruth, I could _**never**_ resent or hate you, no matter what you may have done or not done. If it takes getting shot to get you back, that's a small price to pay." Harry meant it and he hoped that the look in his eyes was helping to put this message across.

"But you could have been killed!"

"Well, I wasn't, was I? You are my guardian angel. This wouldn't be the first time that I've told you, I don't know what I'd do without you. You nursed me back to health. Can you imagine what would happen to me if I was shot and you were not here to take care of me?" Harry planted a tentative kiss on Ruth's cheek.

"With you by my side, I am indestructible!"

Ruth put her hand to Harry's lips, "No, Harry, don't say that, don't tempt fate." As long as her fingers were already on his lips, Harry took advantage of the situation and started to kiss each of her fingers.

Ruth calmed down a little and took a few deep breaths. Her brain resumed normal functions. She was relieved that Harry still remembered her and was now showing signs of affection. But this brought on another question, something which had been bothering Ruth from the beginning of her journey back. She decided that this question had to be articulated and got out of the way.

"Harry, do you mind terribly that it was Jools Siviter who actually resurrected me?" Ruth took another breath before making the observation which had been bothering her. "I always thought that perhaps you might come for me yourself."

Harry had been dreading this moment ever since he realized that Rachel was really Ruth. That was one reason why he needed time to think and to formulate a response that would best reflect his feelings, a response which he owed to Ruth.

"I do feel bad that I didn't try as hard as I could have. Everything happened so quickly when you left. I was not given a chance, or the choice, to devise a plan to save you. I also thought that perhaps you wanted to get as far away from me as possible, since you rejected all of my romantic gestures." This was not some excuse. This was how Harry truly felt about the whole situation.

"That's not true Harry, I told you that at the time. I was not trying to get away from you. You know as well as I do that it was not as simple as that." Ruth looked at Harry with some incredibility in her eyes.

"I know, but I never had a chance to talk to you properly about that. I thought that perhaps everything became too much for you, the workload, all the machinations of Oliver Mace and on top of everything, me." Harry held Ruth's gaze intently.

He went on. "I missed you so much after you left, much more than I thought I would. You're the only one who has made me feel that way in a long time. During the times when the pain became unbearable, and there were a lot of those times, I somehow managed to convince myself that you might be better off with a new life. I always imagined that once you were settled in your new life, some nice young man would snap you up and that you would be starting your own family." Harry still has vivid memories of those painful times. In fact, this was one of the first memories about Ruth which Harry retrieved after regaining that portion of his memories related to her.

"How could you think that? Men have not been exactly beating a path to my door. You should know me by now, I don't get involved with any one just like that, not in that way." Ruth looked at Harry with an expression which was bordering on reproach.

"I know, but just because I was stupid and blind and took years before I realized what was happening between us does not mean that other men would not take immediate notice of your charms and attributes. Don't tell me that you were not aware that Dr. Middleton was quite smitten by you?" Harry asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Ooooh, I think he was rather harmless. I guess he felt sorry for me, that's all. Why didn't you say something?" The dull ache in Ruth's heart had slowly started to dissipate.

"I couldn't," Harry cried. "I have no right to make any comment on the private life of my nurse. Was Dr. Middleton the reason you didn't break cover even after I got better and started to remember things?"

"Yes." Ruth left it at that; she did not elaborate. She did not want to give Harry the chance to interrogate her about whether it was for romantic or medical reasons that prevented her from disclosing her true identity. Ruth was not interested in discussing Dr. Middleton or the advice which he had given her about revealing herself to Harry.

Harry was pleased to note that Ruth did not seem to have any interest in Dr. Middleton. Still, there was something which did not quite add up where the good doctor was concerned. He made a mental note to try and figure this one out, one day when he has nothing better to do. But right now, he had more explaining to do.

"I had rather assumed that after you left me, you were settling down to a happy new life. God knows you deserve all the happiness in the world, Ruth. If in your new life, you found happiness with someone else, then far be it for me to go barging in and upsetting the new order." Harry waited to see Ruth's reaction to what he just said. Ruth simply stared at her hands.

"If there was someone else and you no longer cared for me, it would embarrass you and make me look very foolish, not that I would mind looking foolish. But if there was a new man in your life though you still cared for me, I really have no business complicating your life any more than I already have." Harry tried to put on the most sincere expression he could display and hoped desperately that Ruth understood what he was trying to say.

Ruth did not know what to say. What Harry said made sense, in a weird sort of way. It was funny how she had similar thoughts about him a while back, thinking that perhaps he had moved on after she left. She felt immense regret that the two of them had wasted so much time and opportunity, second guessing each other's feelings. If only she had given Harry a chance. If only they had been truthful about their feelings towards each other. If only …

"But Jools Siviter is not the sort of person who does favours for any one, is he? Does it bother you that because of me, you are now somehow indebted to him?" Ruth was still not ready to let go of this subject.

"You're right. I now owe him a favour, but given the assassination attempt, that favour is probably not going to be as big as the one Jools originally hoped for. But don't worry, my love. Even though I don't trust Jools Siviter as far as the eye can see, he is someone I can do business with. The fact that in bringing you back, he has also rehabilitated a dozen or so other agents who were wrongfully discredited shows that his heart is in the right place. I'm sure that given time and opportunity, I will be able to get even with him, maybe get him to owe me a favour or two."

Harry was pleased that he appeared to have managed to explain himself quite well. He wanted to close the subject, but there remained one question he had to ask.

"Are you very disappointed with me, that I was not the one who went and brought you home?" Harry was pleading for forgiveness.

Ruth reached out to put her hand against Harry's cheek, caressing it gently.

"No, I am not disappointed with you at all. I am just happy to be back, and that I am here with you now."

Harry gave her another kiss, on the forehead.

"Its nice, us talking so fully and frankly with each other." Ruth was now feeling a whole lot better.

"Yes, it is. We should have done this a long time ago. But every time I tried, you ran away from me."

"I was scared."

"You needn't be." Harry kissed her again on her cheek. He wanted to take it further, but was unsure whether it was the right time to do so.

"Promise me that as long as we are together, we will always be completely honest with each other and take the time to hear what the other has to say," Harry asked.

"Yes, I promise." Ruth put her head on his shoulder. Harry ran his fingers through her hair.

"When you gave me notice just now, I thought that I had lost you forever," Ruth muttered. "I was all packed and ready to make a quick exit …"

When Ruth was packing, she was too lost in her grief over the impending end of her relationship to have noticed that Harry made a brief appearance outside her half closed bedroom door; he retreated as soon as he knew what was happening inside the bedroom. That was when he decided that the charade had to end today.

"That was just to tease you. I'm sorry for putting you through all that. It was very thoughtless of me. Forgive me?"

Ruth was about to say, _I don't know, I might have to think about that,_ but Harry beat her to it with a kiss, this time on her lips. This kiss was not of the chaste variety which Ruth gave Harry on that dockside. This kiss was how a kiss between lovers should be: long, hard and passionate.

Now it all made sense to Ruth. The strange behaviour after Harry came back from his visits to the Grid. He had been testing her, or rather, his own memory. It would have been so simple for any one on the Grid to simply tell Harry, early on, that his private nurse was in fact the love of his life who went into hiding all those years ago; or for Ruth herself to come clean about who she really was. But Dr. Middleton had cautioned against doing that. He imposed a strict rule of no prompting Harry about his past.

Was John Middleton guilty of misleading the two of them? There was no hard evidence that the medical advice he gave was absolutely incorrect or negligent. Surely someone with Ruth's skills could have easily done some research in order to ascertain whether the doctor was giving correct medical advice. But Ruth was house bound at the safe house and did not have access to her usual avenues of research. Doctors were one of the most trusted of professionals and people tended to accept everything they say as gospel truth without further enquiry. There was always the possibility that Ruth was so flattered by John Middleton's interest in her that she did not consider that there might have been a chance John was working against a reunion between Ruth and Harry. At the end of the day, Harry did manage to remember Ruth all on his own. They would never know whether he might have done so sooner if he had prompting from someone.

If John Middleton was guilty of inappropriate behaviour as a physician, should he be reported to his superiors? Any attempt to discredit him would only harm his career, which would be a shame as he was otherwise a good doctor. _If in fact the advice given by John Middleton was suspect and Harry should ever find out about this, he might go ballistic and ruin this young doctor, _thought Ruth. She decided that she must never discuss Dr. Middleton with Harry.

**Apologies to Kudos for quoting so extensively from one of their scripts.**

**All reviews will be gratefully received.**


	11. Chapter 11

**  
Same Disclaimer as before**

Chapter 11

What are you doing the rest of your life?

"You know Ruth, I have been doing a lot of thinking these past few weeks."

"Really? I haven't noticed." It was Ruth's turn to tease.

"Getting shot this time, and losing and then regaining my memory, all of these things have given me a chance to take a long hard look at my life. As you know, through my job, I have seen enough treachery, deceit, duplicity and all shades of evil to last a few lifetimes. I have done things and made decisions which I was not proud of. They were all done in the name of protecting the country, for the greater good."

Ruth reached out and caressed Harry's cheek to let him know that she understood what he was trying to say.

"Self control, self denial …. These requirements have taken a toll on me. I don't think I can carry on with the job for much longer on my own. I have to know that for me, on a personal level, there is a point to all this, that there is some goodness in my life which counters the evil that I am mired in on a daily basis, goodness that I can wrap my arms around and which will give me strength to carry on."

Ruth looked into Harry's eyes and saw nothing but love and tenderness. Her own eyes started to tear up again.

"I need someone in my life, someone who makes all the sacrifices which the job demands of me worthwhile. You are that person, Ruth. You have shown me more love and devotion than any one else has in my entire life. You have gone through hell for me, not once, but twice. I cannot begin to express my gratitude …"

Ruth was not sure whether she wanted just gratitude from Harry, but at this moment, she will settle for simple gratitude. She lowered her eyes.

"Once we stopped the pretense of you being my nurse, I was not sure whether you would leave me again, you know, retreat to the position where you were simply my friend and nothing more. I don't want you to do that." Harry paused to gauge Ruth's response, but he did not get one immediately.

"If being with me still gives you joy, then please give me the chance to provide you with that joy for the rest of my life. I cannot bear to lose you ever again. I need you to be in my life, full time, so that we'd be a couple, a proper couple, if that's alright with you. I am not talking about just working alongside each other on the Grid."

"You mean move in together?" She finally looked up, with what Harry hoped was affection in her eyes.

"Yes, but I don't mean as just …" It was very unlike Harry to get tongue tied. He obviously wanted to say something else but had difficulty in getting the words out.

Ruth was curious as to why Harry appeared to be so inarticulate. She had just promised Harry that they would take the time to hear what the other had to say, so she gave Harry a chance to go on with his little speech.

"I was hoping that after all the tension of these past months, I might take you away on a trip to help you relax. That's why I reminded you of my plans for the grand tour. I know how hard these past few months have been on you. I only lost my memory, I was not also blind, you know."

"How can you go on vacation with me when you just said a moment ago that you are expected back at work soon?" Ruth was not seeing the logic in Harry's suggestion.

"I'm sure they will give me leave if I had to go on my … _honeymoon_." Harry was trembling, just a little, when he said this and he was getting red in the face. Whatever it was that he was trying to express, he knew that he was not doing a very good job of it.

Ruth immediately switched into nurse mode, putting her hand on Harry's forehead to see if he was feverish, and taking his wrist to get a pulse reading. "Your heart rate is very high, Harry, now calm down and take some deep breaths." Ruth was very concerned that Harry was talking nonsense. But was he? "Honeymoon? Harry, I, I had no idea you were going to get …" Ruth wondered if she had heard him right.

"Ms Evershed, will you do this old man the honour of marrying him?" There, he finally said it. Harry seldom, if ever, asked a question unless he already had the answer. This was one of those few occasions when he was not absolutely certain of the response he was going to get.

"You … I … you mean, me?" Ruth suddenly felt that the room was spinning. This was not happening. She must be so fraught with worry over Harry that she had inadvertently lapsed into another one of her daydreams. Any minute now she was going to wake up.

"Who else did you have in mind?" Harry must have rehearsed his proposal a million times in the last three days. He now wondered if he could have phrased it in another way.

Ruth was terribly confused. Not that long ago, she thought that she was out of Harry's life, forever. Now he was proposing to her. A part of her brain told her that she should be cautious and not rush into anything, but another part of her brain was busy telling her that she should be enjoying the moment, because Harry had started to plant little kisses on her face and neck. He started in the middle of the forehead and made his way down one side of her face. The kiss on her cheek left her gums all tingly.

Harry decided that it was necessary to explain himself more fully. "Its been nice, us living under the same roof these past few months. I figured that since we have already explored the 'in sickness and in health' part, then as long as you agree to be part of my life, we might as well formalize our relationship."

Ruth wanted to stall for time. Things were going too fast for her liking. "Marriage is such a big step. How can you be sure that I'd say yes? Isn't that quite a big risk to take, coming so soon after the events in recent months? If I declined your offer, it might create stress on your heart and …" As far as Ruth was concerned, the proposal was totally unexpected. She had been so busy lately worrying about whether or not she was going to be a part of Harry's life. Now this! How was it that she did not see this one coming?

"Darling, it is of course your prerogative to say no. I am not so presumptuous as to think that you will fall into my arms and accept my proposal unreservedly. But I have already given this matter a lot of thought. It is not some flippant suggestion or a spur of the moment thing. You see, you're not the only analyst here, I am also capable of doing some analyzing of my own."

"Oh really? This should be interesting." Ruth arched an eyebrow.

"As soon as I go back to work, it will be the same as before, working till all hours of the day and night, conversations and private times interrupted by the incessant ringing of the mobile phone. I don't want you to suffer any insecurities if I have to consistently break dinner dates, or if I were absent for long periods of time …"

"Harry, I don't need the security of a piece of paper …"

"Well _I_ do! Once our relationship is out in the open, how should I introduce you to friends and colleagues? My girlfriend? That sounds so casual, and god knows our relationship is anything but casual. My lover? I know you wouldn't want that because it highlights the physical side of our relationship, and I know how much you dislike other people gossiping about your private life. Young people use the term "partner" or "life partner" these days. I don't like that term. If someone is your best friend, your lover and your life partner all at once, isn't there already a term which covers all of these aspects? Its called a 'wife'." Harry obviously had this all figured out.

"Wow, a marriage proposal by way of a process of elimination. How romantic! This is not at all how I imagined that I might receive a proposal one day, not that I was expecting one." Ruth was still not sure about Harry's proposal.

"Well, if you mean …" Harry fished a small velvet box from his trouser pocket. He opened the box and held it to Ruth. Harry came prepared.

"If you don't like it, or if it doesn't fit you, you can always take it back to exchange it for something you like, or resize it. I'm sure there's nothing wrong with the size. I borrowed one of your rings and traced its size on a piece of paper. I took it into a jewellery shop the last time I was in London and they delivered it this morning, together with the rest of the papers from the Grid." Harry had told the jewellers to pack the ring in a way that the package should not give any clue as to its contents.

"No, its alright, I love the design." Ruth touched the ring and felt almost giddy with joy.

"I chose sapphire as the main stone to bring out the blue in your eyes and the jewellers added in the diamonds on either side of the main stone."

The platinum ring was in an Art Deco design and featured a beautiful steely blue sapphire which complemented the cool sheen of platinum. The sapphire itself was rounded oval and as side stones there were six matched straight, graduated Baguette diamonds, three on either side of the main stone. The main stone must have been close to four carats in size, but it was not so big as to make the ring look gaudy on Ruth's hand. It looked like the kind of ring that Ruth would wear, only this one was not costume jewellery.

"It must have cost you a small fortune. What if I were to turn you down? You will have wasted all that money." Ruth was still looking at the ring as if it were something that might bite her if she touched it.

"Oh, I don't know about that. My job is demanding but I am well paid for it. Besides, I don't have any other extravagances in life. If you don't want it, I can always return it to the jewellers. I know the manager there quite well. … But I am not going to return it unless you tell me that you definitely don't want it, not now, not ever." Harry was worried, _this is not going the way I had hoped._ "Does that mean the answer is 'no'?"

Ruth hesitated before she responded. "No, I didn't say that." Ruth was still unsure. "There is so much about a life together that we have not yet discussed."

"Such as?" Harry continued to be concerned. Was she setting him up for a gentle rebuff?

"Well, what about children?" Ruth had never been particularly maternal, but somewhere at the back of her mind, she always thought that she would end up having children one day, though at her age, she was cutting it a bit fine.

Ruth was not entirely sure why she had raised the subject of children. What if Harry had said that he did not want to have children with her? Would she have turned down his proposal based on that aspect alone? Why was she so hesitant about his proposal when not too long ago, she was desperately trying to remain in Harry's life? This was all happening too quickly. She just needed a little more time to think …

"Yes, I knew you would want to consider that. I _have_ given this matter some thought. You are right, whether or not we have children is a decision which must be made by both of us, together. I have no right to decide, on my own, that you cannot have children with me. However, you do realize, my love, that there is a significant age difference between us?"

"I swear if you keep on emphasizing how old you are, I will stop talking to you right now." Ruth was getting a little fed up with this emphasis on their age difference.

"No, we have to be realistic. If we do have children, chances are, I may not be around to help you cope by the time our children become angry teenagers. I don't like the thought of you becoming a single parent and handling those difficult times on your own. That must be one of the hardest things to do, especially if you also have a demanding job." What Harry said made sense to Ruth.

Harry let that comment sink in a little and then continued. "That said, I do recognize that you will want a family of your own, children to provide companionship in your old age, something to remember me by after I'm gone."

Ruth wanted to thump him on the chest. Why was he being so morbid today? But before her hand could hit him, he intercepted her hand with his and pulled her arm round his own neck so that she was caught in an embrace with him.

"What I'm trying to say is, I will not object, in principle, to us having children, as many as you want, as long as you understand the risks involved, and provided that you accept the only condition which I will place on this subject."

"What condition would that be?"

"If at any time you develop complications in your pregnancy and a choice has to be made between saving the mother or the child, I will always save the mother. This point is non-negotiable. We have gone through so much before we are able to be together. I don't want to live a life without you. I can't and I won't!" Harry was quite serious now.

"You _have_ obviously given this whole marriage idea a lot of thought, haven't you?" Yes, that explained all the pacing in the study and in the garden, and the silent treatment. He had taken time to work all of this out.

"I will, of course, undertake parenting duties with the greatest enthusiasm." Harry wanted to add, "as long as I am still around", but thought better of it. "In particular, I will be delighted to be your accomplice in the baby making process. I do have clearance from my doctor to be engaged in that type of activity, you know." Harry said this with a twinkle in his eye and the widest grin Ruth had ever seen on his face.

So that must have been what he wanted to discuss with Dr. Middleton during his last session, and that was why he did not want Ruth in the room. Ruth could imagine how gutted John must have felt when Harry broached the subject of sex, as in how soon could he engage in sexual intercourse. John must have realized then that Harry did remember Ruth and still loved her. It also explained the strange behaviour of John Middleton when he said goodbye to Ruth.

Harry noticed that Ruth seemed to have drifted off somewhere, lost in her own thoughts. This was a worrying sign. Maybe it was time to change tack and take a slightly different approach. _Back down a little, don't push her too hard. Whatever you do, Pearce, don't say or do anything that might make her run away again._

"You know, Ruth, you don't have to give me an answer straightaway. Take all the time in the world you need. I want you to be sure. Then again, don't take too long, I am not getting any younger and I don't know how many more times I have to get shot before you realize, as I have, that life's too short and you really ought to grab …" All of these words were said in the Pearce patented hushed, tender tones.

Ruth was feeling a little exasperated by all this talk of old age. "All this talk about our age difference. I wonder if this is what they mean by 'irreconcilable difference' in divorce proceedings nowadays. If you put "old" and "age" in the same sentence again, I swear I will not … " Ruth tried to look serious.

Harry gave her a quizzical look. "You can't talk about divorcing me unless you are already married to me." Something then occurred to Harry and his eyes lit up. "Does that mean the answer is 'yes'?" Harry's heart was thumping a little too quickly to be good for him, but he held on.

Ruth took a moment before she capitulated. "Alright … Okay … I mean, yes. If you ask me again, I'll retract …" Harry was now hugging her so tightly that Ruth struggled to take a breath. Harry then slipped the ring onto her finger. It fitted perfectly. Ruth's hand trembled a little.

"You do realize of course that a marriage proposal is like a kind of contract, that your acceptance, once given, is irrevocable."

"I see, you wanted a marriage licence to tie me down." Ruth fiddled with the ring on her finger. Harry's hand clasped around hers. He did not want to give Ruth the chance to take the ring off.

"No, that's not what I mean at all. I just felt that being married would give both of us a sense of permanence so that there would be no more doubt or guesswork, and we can get on with building a future together. If you wanted to leave, I guess no licence in the world would be able to hold you back. Why, are you thinking of leaving me again?" Harry became slightly worried; he had been doing so well up to now.

"No, I'm not going anywhere. I'm just fascinated by your obsession over a marriage licence. Most men would run the other way as soon as you mention the word 'marriage'."

"But I am not just any man, am I?" Ruth had to remind herself that the words 'honour' and 'integrity' were most often associated with Harry Pearce. "Before you accuse me of being bossy, overbearing and/or presumptuous, I should mention that you get to choose the design of the wedding rings and everything relating to the ceremony itself." Harry thought that this might please Ruth.

"Why that's very kind of you, Mr. Pearce," Ruth said with a little sarcasm. "I had rather assumed that you have already picked out the designs for the wedding invitations, not to mention the theme for the bridesmaids' dresses and all."

"No, no, as you know, with every op that I plan, I usually decide on the general theme and overall tactic, but I always leave the actual details to other members of my team."

"I see, you think of marriage as an op. How interesting." Ruth had decided that this must be one of the oddest and least romantic marriage proposals a woman could ever receive. To the extent that this was an op, she had been ambushed by Harry.

"No … I mean, yes … no I mean yes and no. You do realize that sometimes, you can be a very difficult woman to talk to." He did not mean it as a rebuke. "I was sick and tired of doing the tango with you, you know, whenever I take one step forwards, you would take two steps back. So in terms of methodology, I did approach it as if it were an op. To the extent that this is an op, it is the most important one in my life. You're upset now, aren't you?" Harry looked worried. He did not want to upset Ruth, not now, not ever.

"No, not upset, just bemused." Ruth gave him a reassuring smile.

"Well, I did try the romantic approach all those years ago and that just sent you running in the opposite direction. So this time, I decided to use the businesslike approach."

_Yes, of course you would,_ Ruth noted, _except you failed to mention that it was a two prong attack – start with the businesslike approach to appeal to the left side of my brain, coupled with kisses and caresses which sent the right side of my brain into overdrive._

Harry's lips have now made their way to the back of Ruth's left ear lobe, then the nape of her neck. _Oh, I can get used to doing this on a regular basis quite easily,_ thought Harry.

"I mean it, my love, you can have the most lavish wedding in the world, if you so wish." Harry purred into Ruth's ear.

"No, I don't want anything fancy. There is no way I am going to put on one of those meringue like wedding dresses. I long for romance, yes, and to be courted and pursued. But I have never wanted a big traditional wedding. If you insist, lets just apply for the licence, and afterwards, if you want, we can have a small dinner with our close friends and colleagues."

_Why is this woman so hard to understand? _Harry sighed quietly to himself. _Every time I thought that I had her all figured out, she would go and do or say something completely unexpected and I would have to revise my notes again. Most women would love to receive chocolates for their birthdays or other happy occasions, but not this one. Will I ever be able to understand her completely?_ Harry had never met a woman who did not dream of having a wedding with some degree of pomp and circumstance. He wondered whether someone like Jo Portman might be able to change her mind about not having a proper wedding. Then again, he did not know whether this was the sort of thing Ruth would discuss with a friend.

"If you're sure that's what you want. You can always change your mind. And don't worry about the romance quotient in this relationship. I will be courting you and flirting with you every day for the rest of my life, as if we just met. I am quite good at flirting, you know. I would do anything to make you happy."

"I am happy, my love, really. I don't need all the trappings associated with a wedding." She kissed him back.

Harry looked down on the slowly drying wet patch on the front of his polo shirt. He thought that it might be safe to bring up the subject of sex again.

"You know, I have always imagined what it would be like to exchange bodily fluids with you, but I never knew that it would be limited to your tears on my shirt."

This time, Ruth thumped him in the ribcage and he doubled over with pain, or pretended to. When Ruth realized what she had done, she immediately felt very foolish and checked to see if he was alright. Ruth was sure she had thumped him on the right side of his chest, not the left side where he had sustained his injury. Then she saw that he only pretended to be hurt, but before she could do anything further, Harry took the opportunity of grabbing her face with both hands and planting another long, passionate kiss on her.

They then spent the afternoon cuddling and kissing on the couch, and catching up on old times. Harry wanted to know all about what Ruth did and where she went during her exile. Now that they were free of all inhibitions, they found that they had endless things to say to each other. Some happy, some sad. Harry's heart broke when Ruth talked about having to look over her shoulders all the time and living as a different person. Harry knew that life on the run would be hard on a single woman. He had wanted to help, but did not know how or where to begin and the job always got in the way.

Harry then told Ruth about the identity of his assassins, Oliver Mace's part in his attempted assassination, and how Jools Siviter found out about it. He saw the look of fear and disgust in Ruth's eyes. He held her close and told her not to worry.

"We can't spend the rest of our lives worrying about what our enemies might do to us. That's why I told Adam I don't want to take any retaliatory action. From now on, I want to spend my life doing constructive, not destructive things. Like I said earlier, we should grab all opportunities offered to us in life for happiness whilst we can." Harry emphasized the point he was making by planting another kiss on Ruth.

Ruth was pleased that she had now been brought up to date on what had been happening in the outside world. She liked being held close by Harry. She wanted to stay that way forever.

The phone did not ring even once that afternoon. Ruth did not know that Harry had given instructions to his team that he was not to be contacted at all that afternoon.

Somewhere on the Grid, someone was running a book on what Harry was supposed to be occupied with that afternoon which necessitated a complete communication blackout. It was a foregone conclusion that it had something to do with Ruth, so people placing bets had to be specific as to what was going to happen to the two of them. When the book was closed at 12 noon, the book runner was surprised that there were quite a large number of bets on Ruth and Harry calling it quits altogether. It was not so much that the team wanted to see a breakup. It was just that the odds for a breakup were so much more attractive than those for a happy ending.

By 5 pm, Scarlett was getting bored with the action going on on that couch. Scarlett was thinking : _what does a dog have to do around here to be taken for a walk?_ Harry got up to get Scarlett's leash. He then reminded Ruth of the promise she made the last time he complained about hospital food. As soon as he was well enough, he would be allowed to eat a proper meal in a proper restaurant.

"You know, I have been eyeing that little French restaurant on the high street when we used to go grocery shopping. Shall we stop by after our walk and see if they can fit us in for an early dinner? I think they have a seating area outside so they probably won't mind if Scarlett joined us."

Fidget was only 12 hours into his daily 18 hour beauty sleep. He opened his eyes when he heard the commotion made by the dog getting excited about her walk_._ Fidget got up, stretched, found another position, and carried on sleeping on the window sill.

**All reviews will be gratefully received.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Same Disclaimer as before**

Chapter 12

That's All I Ask of You

It was still early in the evening when Harry and Ruth arrived at the restaurant. They were the first customers. They chose one of the tables in a corner right next to the door leading to the outdoor seating area. They sat side by side rather than facing each other. The restaurant had no problems accommodating Scarlett, who was content to sit in a corner next to her master's table.

The restaurant turned out to be one of those marvelous little diners run by a young French couple who served home style French cooking. It should come as no surprise that Harry selected a bottle of white burgundy. He was limited to only two small glasses but he did not mind. He gazed adoringly at the woman sitting next to him. That alone gave him a high that no alcohol ever could.

The two of them could not take their eyes off each other. The waitress felt bad about interrupting them but she had to take their orders.

"Darling, you know that after you left, they gave me a knighthood."

"Yes, Malcolm did mention something like that. You must be pleased."

"Not as pleased as I am now, when I have something else to go with the title."

"What do you mean?"

"You do realize that after we are married, you'll be Lady Pearce?"

Ruth was hoping that she might be able to get away with a long engagement without actually taking the final step. But Harry was not the sort of man known for taking half steps, and if he was now talking about her future title, she would not be surprised if he went and applied for a licence the minute the nearest registry office opened in the morning. Ruth told herself that as long as she still loved Harry and wanted to be with him, it really did not matter whether or not it involved a marriage licence. If that was what Harry wanted, the least she could do was to indulge him and sign the register at the end of the requisite notice period.

Ruth pondered that for a minute. How did she go from being a 'dead' person and a fugitive to being reunited with her beloved and becoming the wife of a titled man, all in the space of six months, whilst taking a crash course in nursing along the way? If someone had asked her, just before she clicked open that email from Malcolm, _how do you see yourself in six months' time_, she would never, in her wildest dreams, have predicted all this._ You never know what fate has installed for you, do you? Just when you are resigned to the fact that what you have been hoping and praying for would be denied you forever, you are suddenly rewarded in a totally unexpected manner. Its like some sort of random harvest._

"Hey, remember when I was still in a coma, you had to wipe me down every day. After I was able to get out of bed, remember how you used to have to stand outside the shower to make sure that I could wash myself?" Harry was being cheeky.

"Yes, of course I do. A dry wipe down of comatose patients is standard operating procedure. We had to keep you clean, make sure that you didn't develop bed sores and other complications. Keep the blood circulation going and all that." Ruth wondered where this conversation was going.

"That's not fair then. You have already seen me naked," he said with mock indignation.

"You were hurt and needed help. Nurses are used to dealing with their patients in their birthday suits. They think nothing of it." _What is he going on about?_

"No, no, that's not what I mean. Did you like what you saw?" said Harry, with a twinkle in his eye.

The penny dropped.

"I am not going to tell you …" Harry started to tickle her. Ruth tried to dodge the tickles; she was a little concerned how the other diners felt about what was going on at their table; the restaurant was starting to fill up. Now that she thought about it, yes, she did like what she saw.

"Oh you are incorrigible! What is it with men and sex? You've only just recovered from major trauma and this is the first thing on your mind? You know, I don't care that you have a doctor's note, we are not jumping into bed until I am absolutely certain that you are up for this sort of activity."

"I see that you are already exercising your prerogative as a wife to withhold sex from your spouse!" Harry thought, _okay I can wait, I have waited this long. You are not getting away from me this time._

"We still have to work out arrangements relating to our day jobs." Ruth tried to steer the conversation towards a more serious subject.

"We'll work something out. I want you back by my side at work."

"Well, I don't know about that. I have been talking to Malcolm about an alternative."

"Why hasn't Malcolm mentioned this to me?" Harry started to become a little suspicious.

"Nothing's settled yet. Its just a possibility. There's nothing more I like than to pick up where we left off as far as the job is concerned, but we both know that that's not going to work. I've said it before, I will not do anything which will make it possible for others to undermine your position at work. Working alongside each other once we are a couple will give others plenty of opportunities to gossip. People have a great propensity to imagine nepotism when nothing of the sort exists."

"I have no doubt that I will not treat you in any preferential way just because you are sleeping with me." Harry tried to say this with a straight face.

"Harry, be serious! Malcolm tells me that they are talking about setting up a new Section, as part of the Service, which will work on computer and technology related projects exclusively." Ruth paused to take a sip of her wine.

"I mean, its embarrassing the way government agencies keep losing computer disks filled with people's personal information. We should not be making that sort of mistake. There should be a set of standard operating guidelines for simple procedures like that. As you know, computer related terrorism is on the rise, and the Service really ought to be better organised so that we are in a position to face new challenges. At the moment, each Section has its own team of computer experts and bits of know-how are scattered all over the place. This new Section will co-ordinate, monitor and supervise all IT activities between the various branches of the Service and eventually, between all Government departments. We will make sure that the right know-how is developed and centralized."

"That's wonderful. Now that you mention it, I do seem to recall seeing a paper about this. I didn't think that GCHQ and some of the other existing Sections will like this new arrangement since some of their functions will overlap, and I was concerned that this new Section might not get the right people to join, but if you are going to be on board …" Harry was beaming at his fiancé.

"As you know, I am good with computers and I am capable of analyzing and solving problems. Malcolm will arrange for interviews. We'll know more in a week's time. The offices will be at Thames House, so we can go to work together. Its more of a 9 to 5, desk bound job than working in Section D. As long as I have a secured line to the internet, I can work from home in case of emergencies." So that was the contingency plan which Ruth had been making for herself.

"You should be more than qualified for that job. Do you want me to put in a word with the …" Harry was trying to be helpful and positive.

"Harry! What did we just say about nepotism? No, please don't say anything. I want to get this job on my own. I don't know whether this new position will be as demanding as my days were in Section D. No relationship can accommodate two demanding jobs. One of us will have to stay home, pining for the other one to return," Ruth teased.

"As long as I know that I can look forward to going home to you every night, I guess I'll live. I like that thought : you sitting by the sofa, looking out the window, pining for my return. I hope I will not make you pine too often or for too long though. The DG has asked to have a word as soon as I return to work full time. Maybe they want me to take early retirement after these recent injuries."

This was the other matter which had been bothering Harry. He had been shot so many time now, he wondered whether the Service had concerns as to whether he was still capable of doing his job.

"Malcolm said that word on the vine is that you might be asked to replace the DG, you know, do more admin work and juggle politicians rather than direct ops. The DG himself is due for retirement soon." Ruth was a little surprised that this piece of intelligence had not been communicated to Harry.

"How is it that I get to hear all this gossip from you and not from Malcolm? I'm his boss! I thought that I was the one who was better at prying information out of people. "

"Didn't you tell me once that I was a born spook?"

"Yes, my beautiful little spook." Harry planted another kiss on Ruth.

He did not think much of this piece of gossip. Given his recent bout of memory loss, he thought it unlikely that he would be entrusted with such an important job. The only good thing about the memory loss was that the Service was probably happy that it would not have to worry that Harry might pull a Clive McTaggart and do a tell-all autobiography.

"I'm not sure that I want the DG's job, or that I would be any good at it. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. As long as you are happy in that new job, then I'm happy. Setting up any new Section will be hard work and you can expect a lot of politics from within the Service. If the new job does not work out, you can always come back to Section D. You never know, with your skills and your level of devotion to your job, I wouldn't be surprised if you end up heading that new Section once it is up and running."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Sir Harry!" Ruth was capable of flirting too.

"No, I mean it. If there is a chance of you getting ahead in the Service, I will not stand in your way, you know that. You shouldn't think so little of yourself. I am determined to make this, us, work. I'd be more than happy for you to wear the pants, go to work each morning whilst I stay home to look after the kids. The idea of being a kept man is becoming more appealing by the minute."

"You, a house husband on nanny duties? After spending the whole afternoon telling me how old and decrepit you were getting? Do you really think you can handle it, or that I would trust you with our kids?" There was no way Ruth was going to pass up on this dig.

Harry laughed and played with her fingers again. He knew he had that one coming. "Hey, I didn't say I was 'decrepit', just getting old!" He liked the reference to 'our kids' very much.

"You know, you might be surrounded by mathematicians again once you join this new Section." Harry's memory bank was obviously back to normal, otherwise he would not have remembered such a flippant remark made by Ruth a long time ago.

"That's OK. I think I have now resolved my aversion to mathematicians." In fact, Ruth was very sure of that, looking at her engagement ring.

The food was delicious but after the first course, the two of them were too busy talking, gazing into each other's eyes and making out to pay any attention to the main course. The chef noticed this when he went round the tables to chat to his customers. He was most concerned that there was something wrong with his cooking.

"Monsieur, is everything alright? You have hardly touched your main course."

"No, no, everything is fine. Its just that we …" He threw an enquiring look at Ruth. Ruth immediately knew what he wanted to say and gave an imperceptible little nod. "We just got engaged today, and we are so happy discussing our future that we have somehow neglected these wonderful dishes." Harry started to shuffle some food into his mouth to placate the chef.

"Ah, l' amore. Many congratulations! You must let me offer you complimentary desserts."

Since Ruth was still watching Harry's calorie intake like a hawk, they decided to share one dessert between them. Harry much enjoyed spooning the chef's sweet concoction into Ruth's mouth. It was quite a change from being spoon fed by Ruth when he first came out of his coma.

On their way out of the restaurant, Harry wondered if they might have their little celebratory dinner at this restaurant, if Ruth insisted on not having a traditional wedding. It was off the beaten track and they could book the entire restaurant for the night. The place was just big enough to accommodate their close friends and colleagues. It would give everyone a chance to really let their hair down and have a good time.

_Must check with m'lady at the next available opportunity what she thinks about this venue. I shouldn't be making these decisions on my own, otherwise I will get told off for being bossy and presumptuous again._

_Ah yes, m'lady. My wife._

Harry was so happy with that thought that he stopped Ruth when they were out on the pavement and gave her another passionate kiss.

Ruth gave him a quizzical look, as in "_what was that for_"? Harry simply grinned from ear to ear and started to walk home, with his arm wound tightly around Ruth's shoulders.

Over the years, Ruth had seen a variety of Harry expressions. The one which was on display most often was his scary face, when he growled at someone with immense displeasure because he was not getting his way. There was the Harry-in-concentration face, which he used when sitting in meetings and briefings. There was the caring face, when he felt genuine concern, pain or grief over the loss of yet another member of his team. Then there was his loving face, with tenderness and desire oozing from his eyes. Ruth most recently saw that face for the whole of this afternoon and this evening. But this one, the smug smiley face, was a new one. Ruth could not remember ever seeing Harry so happy and pleased with himself. When Ruth realized that she was probably the reason for that happy face, she broke into a grin that was a mirror image of Harry's grin_._

Scarlett was just glad that they were finally going home.

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**  
If you are happy with how the story has been going and do not want to know any more, please stop reading now. I did not think that I could drag you on this long journey and leave you outside the bedroom.**

**From here on, there will be scenes of a sexual nature so if you do not like that sort of thing, please stop reading. Its not smut though. I would not dream of pretending to write smut in the presence of all the masters of the genre on this website. This is the best I can do.**

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When they reached the bedroom, Ruth turned to Harry and started kissing him, slowly and deliberately, in the way that one would normally start foreplay in the love making process. But Harry stopped her.

"Hey, slow down. I thought you said that you wanted to wait."

Ruth had more to drink than Harry during dinner and she was feeling flirtatious. Now seemed as good a time as any to consummate this relationship.

"Darling, you have been through quite an emotional rollercoaster ride today, you must be exhausted. What do you say we simply fall asleep in each other's arms for now?" Much as Harry hated himself for saying this, he did feel that it was the right way to go.

"But Harry, didn't you mention something about 'exchanging bodily fluids'?" Ruth was a little disappointed. She wondered whether this was how Harry felt when all those years ago, she kept running from him every time he made a positive gesture in their relationship.

"Yes, … you have no idea how badly I want you. But I want our first time together to be something special and spectacular. I want you to remember my every touch, and every whimper and moan that you experience. I want you to climax with such intensity that you will fall in love with me all over again and vow never to leave my side, ever. I don't want you to do this when you're tired." To emphasize what he just said, Harry kissed Ruth long and hard.

Ruth noticed that Harry also looked a little tired after the day's events. She did not put up too much of a fight. She took a shower and climbed into bed as Harry went into the bathroom.

Initially, Ruth felt a little nervous. This would be the first time that she was going to share Harry's bed, by invitation. However, the shower she took had a very soothing effect and the sheets were wonderfully smooth and warm. She had so much to drink and eat during dinner that her brain had no trouble winding down. She had no idea when did she close her eyes but as soon as she did, she fell asleep right away.

When Harry came out of the bathroom after he finished his nightly routines, he smiled at the sight of sleeping beauty in his bed. _Poor love, she has gone through so much on my account._ Right there and then, Harry made a promise : _today will be the last time that I will make you cry, or give you any reason to cry._ He then climbed into bed as quietly as possible so as not to wake Ruth. He then held her in a tender embrace. He too, fell asleep quickly, with his nose half buried in her hair.

Ruth awoke at 5 am the next morning, as usual. She felt rested. She could not remember the last time she had such a good night's sleep. There was enough light that time of the morning for Ruth to make out the layout of the room. For a split second, she could not remember where she was. Then the events of yesterday came rushing in. Yes, after years of wondering, worrying and longing, she finally got an answer to all her questions yesterday. _Was it all a dream?_ No, it had to be real because of the gentle snoring that she now noticed, coming from behind her, and the heat that she was enveloped in, the heat of another body in bed with her.

Then she also remembered with a start, she fell asleep before Harry even came to bed! _Well done, woman, the first night you spend in bed with the love of your life and what do you do, you fall sound asleep. How embarrassing!_ She turned slowly to look at Harry. Good, it looked as if he was still sleeping. And yes, there it was, the most adorable pout in the world. She could not resist planting a small kiss on his lips but when she tried to pull away, his lips were like a pair of magnet and drew her back, into a deeper, more passionate kiss. He was awake after all.

"Good morning," Harry said sleepily.

"Hi." Ruth whispered back.

And then it happened, just the way Harry had predicted and dictated, slowly but surely. Their first time together. A very special first time.

At first, Ruth was a little apprehensive, _oh-no, isn't this the part where the guy finds out that I am crap in bed and then never calls again? I wonder if a man is allowed to retract a marriage proposal if he is not happy with the sexual aspects of the union?_ Ruth was alright with the kissing part since she had lots of recent practice. Then Harry's hands started to wander all over her body. Ruth had never been touched by Harry before, not like this. Ruth debated, for a split second, whether to squirm or simply give in to the pleasure; she decided to give in.

As Harry lifted her night dress over her head and shoulders, she tensed up. What if Harry did not like her body? Ruth had never been proud of her body before. She always dressed in the frumpiest clothes she could find. Harry noticed what was going on and started to caress her some more and licked her ear. He kept whispering to her, _its alright my love, relax, there, there, just relax_. When Harry guided her hand to his groin area to show her the effect that she was having on him, Ruth blushed furiously and tried to bury her face in the pillow. Ruth need not have worried about Harry's reaction to her naked body. Even if Harry was not in this state of heightened euphoria, he would have concluded that this was the most perfect female body he had ever had the pleasure to hold and enjoy.

There was no question that Harry was a skilled and experienced lover. He knew exactly where to kiss her, the body parts to caress or massage, and how much pressure to exert. When he got a little too enthusiastic, Ruth let slip a little moan and Harry immediately dialed back a notch. When he kissed or sucked a part that felt particularly wonderful to Ruth, she let him know by running her fingers through his hair and holding him close.

Ruth felt as though her body was some kind of instrument that was being worked over by an expert. But it went beyond mere proficiency in the technicalities of the love making process. There was also a lot of love and tenderness. Ruth could not remember the last time someone made her the centre of the universe, or made her needs and desires the only priority. She felt sensations and emotions that she did not know she was capable of experiencing. When she climaxed, she felt as though she was blown into a million little pieces, and then put back together lovingly by Harry. The new Ruth who emerged from this was a more confident Ruth, secure in the knowledge that she was now basking in the adoration of her beloved. Henceforth, there would not be any need for self doubt, suspicions or lack of confidence. There would be no more uncertainty or insecurity about anything in life.

It was everything Ruth had ever dreamed about making love to Harry, even better. But then Ruth no longer had to dream or imagine anything where Harry was concerned. From now on, she would only have to deal with reality and reality never looked so wonderful. Harry was wrong about one thing, though. Ruth could not remember every moan or whimper. There were so many delicious moments. _I guess Harry will just have to keep reminding me._

When Harry was ready to enter Ruth, he found her very wet, warm and tight. It felt as if he was being massaged by a velvet glove. He did not want it to stop, and he used every trick in the book to delay the inevitable. When Ruth softly cried out his name in the throes of ecstasy, Harry saw a sweet vulnerability in her eyes that melted his heart. This was a side of Ruth that Harry had never seen before. His strong, resourceful Ruth was showing a soft, delicate side and this made her so much more beautiful. Harry fell deeper in love with Ruth than he thought was possible.

Harry was a little surprised by what he had just experienced. Whilst he always imagined that making love to Ruth would be a pleasant experience, thrilling even, he never thought that it would be such a deeply satisfying experience. Even though Harry had not been sexually active for some time, he was quite certain that no woman had ever made him feel this way before.

This beautiful and amazing woman with the razor sharp mind was now his and his to keep. He lost her once but by some twist of fate, she was returned to him. _To have and to hold, to love and to cherish._ Harry felt tremendously privileged. In an instance, he understood the whole reason for his being. The fact that he existed on this earth, and everything that had gone on before in his life. All of those things were to prepare him for this woman. From now on, he would do anything to make her happy, make her smile and see those blue/grey eyes light up. It looked as if the bear with the sore head had found a permanent cure for his headache.

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If you asked him, he would not have characterized his life up to this point as a lonely existence – he was always surrounded by people, and there were always demands on his time and his mental skills; he valued what little time he had to be by himself. But for some time now, he knew that he did not want to go through life without Ruth beside him. What he had just experienced simply confirmed what he already knew. Ruth completed him.

It then occurred to Harry that he had forgotten to tell her what he wanted to say to her that day by the dockside just before she left, and what he should have told her yesterday afternoon. He drew Ruth into a tight embrace and whispered in her ear,

"I love you".

**The End**

**One last time, all reviews will be gratefully received.**


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